


My Little Prince

by loveableabusive



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveableabusive/pseuds/loveableabusive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ability for Princess-Consort Reniselille to produce an heir had always been in question, but even if she did, would it be a normal, healthy babe? How far will a mother go for her son? What will a father, and a king, do for his wife and child?<br/>All the while Denerim is being hounded by a group of unruly maleficar, something the Princess Consort has always been scared of, ever since her visit to the circle of the magi...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparations

"Lady Reniselille?"  
I suddenly decided that if one more person called me by that name I was going to tear their arms off and beat them to death with their own fists. I sighed and stood up, leaving my unfinished letter to Fergus lying on the desk, to open the door and glower at whoever had disturbed me. It was a small girl, of around fourteen, with a shock of blonde hair and huge blue eyes, which were widened in terror. Was I really that terrifying?  
"E-excuse m-m-me Lady R-Ren-Renis-Reniselille," She stammered. I felt my eye twitch but I pulled in a deep breath, trying to ignore my annoyance.  
"Please. Call me Lily." I told her in a manner as soothing as possible. Her eyes, alarmingly, widened even more.  
"I… I couldn't! his-majesty-said-I-can-only-call-you-by-your-real-name! " She gasped, her words coming out as a rush this time, so I barely caught them. But when I understood her words, I took a yet another deep breath and tried to stop my fists clenching. That bastard.  
I sighed. "What is it then?"  
"You have… a guest My Lady. She is with Wynne at the moment… it is about arrangements for the… wedding." My stomach squirmed, not wholly a negative reaction, but one borne of nerves and excitement both. I was to be married.  
Nodding, I let a small smile drift onto my face. "Send them in then and can you do me a favour?" The girl nodded quickly, her eyes bright.  
"Tell His Majesty that Lady Reniselille told him he is in very deep trouble." I didn't expect her to do it, really, mainly because she paled at my words and almost ran down the corridor. I chuckled to myself and closed my door, leaning against it for a moment.  
My name, the one I was born with anyway, was Reniselille Cousland, the wily daughter of Bryce, the Teyrn of Highever, and Eleanor, his lovely wife. We had lived together in Highever for years, yet soon after my eighteenth birthday, my father and older brother were to march south to Ostagar to help with the battle against a particularly nasty darkspawn horde. My brother left, but my father didn't last long enough to follow him.  
Soon after Fergus left, my family were betrayed. By Howe. The greatest friend my father had and the one who had given the order to destroy my family, twisting the knife in Bryce's back. My mother and father had stayed to give me time to escape with Duncan, a Grey Warden. That was the last time I ever saw them, both covered in my father's blood.  
As I thought of my parents, my hand automatically lifted to grasp my chest, my heart clenching as the grief washed over me again. Over the past year, I had been carefully thinking of anything but them, and it was easy, because of the Blight that had almost covered the whole of Ferelden, but now that it was over, there was nothing much to distract me. Even the looming wedding only distracted me for so long. There was only one thing that ever helped when these fits of misery hit me.  
Alistair.  
The King of Ferelden, who had been crowned only a few short months ago, was also like me, a Grey Warden, chosen through fate to battle the Darkspawn, a warrior without peer, but more than that… he was the centre of my entire life.  
Thinking of him helped. It never really cured the loneliness, but I was able to breathe, and I felt my feeble heart beat again, stronger now, determined. I straightened up and wiped my face quickly, removing all traces of the tears before I walked back to my desk. I knew that I would have no chance of finishing my letter now, so I shoved it in my draw and strolled over to my balcony, my gown rustling as I moved. I was too used to the creak of leather, the weight of drake scales on my shoulders, and the loud thud as I ran. Now, I almost made no sound, and the fine fabric made me feel naked. Too… vulnerable. I had no way to protect myself from any assassins, but then my own personal assassin had assured me that no one was actively seeking my life… yet.  
It wasn't even close to noon yet, I thought as I looked out onto the sweeping plains of Ferelden, leaning on the balcony with a very heavy sigh. Even now, five months after the archdemon had been destroyed; I could still see the lands before me blackened by the Blight, and the plumes of dark smoke from the pyres, built from the burning carcasses of the darkspawn stragglers. I watched the smoke rolling toward the fluffy white clouds, glad that at least the azure sky had recovered quickly from the Blight.  
Ferelden. It was my home, and as I stood at its capital, looking out, I felt a strong sense of joy that I had a hand in saving it, and being able to see for myself as it recovered.  
"Pensive are we?" a gentle voice murmured next to my right ear. I leapt up in alarm, biting back a scream as I turned quickly to glare at whoever had the gall to sneak up on me. I could sneak past an over-paranoid elf, while whistling the national anthem with bells attached to my heels. I was rewarded with laughter, a ringing giggle that I recognised immediately, and so my twirl was redirected mid-point to allow me to throw my arms around the rogue that stood behind me.  
"Leliana!" I cried, happily. She laughed and wrapped her arms around me.  
"It's nice to see you haven't changed Lily," said Leliana, her voice still as musical as ever. My heart was singing. I hadn't seen her since Alistair had been crowned. It was strange that that time had seemed so lengthy, despite how little I could remember of it. I was… bored. She leaned away from the embrace, so I could see her face. Her red hair was longer than I remembered, and braided a little on the top layer as if she was trying to build on my own former style. At the moment, my own white hair was braided, but loosely so my bangs still framed my pale face. I must admit, I didn't look very queenly.  
"And you! Oh, you look so beautiful!" I gasped, embracing her again with a laugh.  
"She does. She seems more beautiful each time I see her." Wynne, the court mage murmured as she stepped out onto the balcony, following our laughter. "As, I must say, do you." She smiled. "You're looking radiant Lily."  
I couldn't help it, I blushed. "You saw me yesterday Wynne." I reminded her, a little embarrassed.  
She laughed. "True, but you always look lovely in the sunlight. No wonder Alistair fell for you." I smiled, pleased and looked down at the floor. "We came to help you with your wedding preparations." Wynne continued, with her business-like attitude. "Leliana came as soon as she found out that the date had been set. She insists on being a bridesmaid."  
"But of course!" Leliana gasped, detangling us from the now confusing hug. "In Orlais, the centre of any marriage is the beauty of the bride, and the way her bridesmaids compliment her. I know you, Lily, and I know how to make Alistair fall in love with you all over again, but I have to be beside you. Besides, I want to wear pretty shoes again. I'm fed up with these boots."  
She really hadn't changed. I was pleased. "I would be honoured if you'd be my bridesmaid! You too Wynne."  
At this, the mage laughed. "Oh no, don't be silly… too much excitement for an old heart. I will watch from the safest distance and be happy for the pretty young things. Have your limelight, girls." She said. "I will, however, make sure you don't enter that room looking like the scamp you are. You are to be queen now Lily. You can't look like you've just been dragged through the Bannorn by your ankles."  
I scowled and she laughed. "And don't pout either. You'll get wrinkles."  
The rest of the morning was filled with laughter, even when the little girl returned after sending Alistair the message I had given him. Her face was bright pink and whenever she tried to tell me his reply, she collapsed into gales of laughter. Such a change from the nervous creature I had met that morning. Leliana took to her immediately, and she was unofficially named as one of my flower-girls. I never understood the reason for flower-girls, but her face lit up so brightly that I couldn't object. Her name was Kathlena, an orphan who was picked up by the head maid around ten years ago. After a few hours, all three of us absolutely adored her.  
For that time, I was able to stand and honestly say that I was happy. The Blight was gone, I was surrounded by my family for, in reality, Wynne had stepped into Eleanor's shoes. Obviously no one could ever replace Eleanor, but Wynne had become something like a mother to me, being there when I was scared or upset, always offering a shoulder for me to cry on. The thought that I would lose her too, was more terrifying than I could think on, and so I was glad to, for those few hours, forget my troubles and think of the future. My future with Alistair. My future with Leliana as my sister. There was just one gaping hole that no one could ever hope to fill.  
The greatest friend I had ever had. A friend who had given me the greatest gift I had ever received. The gift of this future that I was standing before. If not for her… I clenched my eyes shut and bit down upon my lip as Leliana draped a piece of silk around Kathlena's shoulders. If not for her, either I would be dead, or Alistair would've lost his life. She gave us the gift of a life in each other's arms and I was forever grateful.  
But I missed her. Not for the first time, I looked out of the balcony from my seat, wondering where she was. Was she thinking about me? When would her child be born? What would she name it? Where would she raise it? This is what she really wanted so I guessed she would be happy… Morrigan.  
It didn't really bother me anymore that she was carrying Alistair's child. It had once destroyed me. That night before we had almost lost everything, when Morrigan had told us her plan, I had lain in my bed alone and wept. Alistair had rejoined me after, but I would not look at him and he did not speak. The day after, everything was forgotten, for we had something else to worry about and we never spoke of it. Though I knew Alistair thought of it sometimes, I could tell whenever he had that faraway look on his face. I knew he was thinking about his child.  
Okay, it bothered me a little…  
More like a lot.  
But I didn't blame her. She gave me something in return. A life with him. My Alistair.  
The looming wedding was the most talked about thing in Denerim, and even in parts of the Bannorn, and the whole of Ferelden was waiting with baited breath. For not only was Alistair's betrothed none other than Reniselille Cousland, the legendary beauty that was the daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, but was also the Grey Warden who stopped the Blight in it's tracks. I was a legend apparently, according to my own private assassin who always had his pointed ear close to the ground.  
As the month drew to a close, I found myself being swept from room to room, from wing to wing and finally from rehearsal to rehearsal, being pulled around so much that I lost complete track of time, and before I knew it, I was standing on a stool, while Leliana flittered around me, patiently pinning the folds of fine white silk so it hugged my body. I noticed she was going for a ruffled approach. I also noticed that the dressmakers that had been hired had automatically stepped aside for the whimsical Orlesian bard to let her work her magic with the aid of Wynne and Kathlena who Leliana seemed to have adopted.  
I looked down at the almost-dress. "You know… I shouldn't be wearing white." I said matter-of-factly.  
Leliana gave me a disgruntled look and took a pin from her mouth. "Well, as far as the public knows, you and Alistair are both virgins and will be until you're married." She looked at Wynne. "What do you think?"  
Wynne took a step back and stared at the dress for a moment. "Perfect. How's the bodice coming along?"  
One of the senior dressmakers looked up from where she was carefully embroidering the bodice for the dress. "Almost done."  
I sighed, frustrated and resisted the urge to stamp my foot. Had I no say in what my wedding dress looked like? "You'll see it when it's done." Leliana said without looking at me, as if she had read my mind. Again I felt my foot twitch.  
Wynne looked at me closely. "Don't make it too elaborate, otherwise people will be looking at the dress and not her beautiful face. Besides. We only have two days until the wedding."  
My stomach dropped, leaving a nice icy absence in its wake. Two. Days. Two days? I tried to count in my head but I had been to so many rehearsals and dinners that it all seemed to morph into one continuous day. Alistair had been getting the same treatment as far as I knew, because I had hardly seen him since he was crowned. We were sleeping on opposite ends of the palace after all. Segregation gone mad. Leliana looked up at my face and grinned. "Come on Lily. You couldn't have forgotten what day you were going to be married!"


	2. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young woman finally weds her true love...

Recently, I hadn't had much time in my life to watch the sun come up, like I had done when I was younger and still living in Highever. I remember waking when it was still dark and slowly sneaking through the quiet halls like a ghost and to the north tower, from which I could see the whole of Highever. The sky would be spread with dying stars, like diamonds pushed into a fading indigo velvet shroud, and at the horizon a faint pinkness would be rising, streaking the sky around it with purples and setting the clouds above ablaze with fiery orange and gold. The pink would spread and the stars would slowly fade with the onslaught of morning and after most of the darkness had been banished, my father would've joined me. We would stand in silence for a while, sometimes as much as an hour, until he sighed and would say "Come on pup, breakfast."  
I was standing in the Royal Palace, atop the highest tower I could find, and for the first time since I had destroyed the Archdemon, I was watching the sun come up. Now that I was older, it looked different, less magical somehow, but at the same time, there was some sad beauty to it, especially after the Blight, when the sickness that had caught the land and had started to reach out to poison the sky had been halted. My sleep was filled with dreams, and I soon realised that after I had woken up sweating for the fifth time, I wasn't going to get anymore sleep. I was actually more exhausted than I had been when I finally did go to bed, so I decided to honour my old tradition while I was still an unmarried child.  
I had been standing there for little over twenty minutes when I heard the trapdoor behind me open. A scream rising in my throat, I hugged the wall, staring down at the figure that was clambering out of the trapdoor. When it turned its eyes to me, the scream died in my throat, and a hot surge of disappointment flooded me, disappointment that was soon replaced with an indescribable joy.  
Alistair blinked. "Lily!" He gasped. "What are you doing… it's barely dawn!" He approached me quickly and automatically pulled me against him, and he laughed a little under his breath. "I've missed you."  
I nodded and clung to him. He was wearing a plain white tunic and I breathed in his scent hungrily, pressing my nose to the fabric. He smelled of honey, sweat and rust, leftover from the ornamental armour he would wear in court, but it was a mix that sent my heart into a frenzy. I remembered the smell of rust when we had first made love so long ago and I gripped onto him tighter. We had been living under the same roof for almost six months and this had been the first time we had been allowed to be so close. With a shock, I remembered that I was to be married in a few short hours and no longer would I have to wait months to show him affection. I looked up at him through my lashes, surprised to find that they were wet.  
"Hey." He said, passing his thumb over my cheek to wipe a tear away. "None of that, love. Today's a happy day. Apparently. If you listen to Leliana going on about it, you'd think it was her getting married." I laughed and closed my eyes; more tears spilling down my cheeks. He pulled me against him again and rested his chin on my hair, looking out at the horizon. "If they're looking for us now, we're going to be in so much trouble." He said almost absently.  
"Let them look." I murmured. "I'm very happy here. Maybe we should just live up here, where no one can find us and we can actually be in love without running for cover when we want to be alone." I missed it. Being so free and going wherever we pleased, seeing whoever we wanted. I was beginning to wish Alistair hadn't agreed to be king.  
"They all want to be part of our big happy family!" He joked. "Though at the rate things are going, I might have to start beating a few courtiers with sticks. Some of them have been heard making some rather unsavoury remarks about you."  
I grimaced. "Off with their heads." I grumbled.  
Again Alistair laughed and he held me closer. "That's exactly what Zev said. He became oddly obsessed with the notion of a public execution. 'Defend your woman' he was saying." I must admit, Alistair pulled off Zevran's antivan accent almost perfectly.  
"I can defend myself."  
"Oh I know! Zev's the only one who seems to have doubts. I told him that even the darkspawn had to think twice before coming up against you. You can handle a couple of courtiers." He looked over at the horizon again and sighed. "Now that is beautiful." He murmured, gently turning me around.  
The sun had started to crest the hill, and its golden rays had stretched upwards into the sky, touching the bellies of the fluffy white clouds that had begun to roll in, and causing them to sparkle with gold. The sky went from indigo, to blue, purple and then finally that pale pink that I so loved. I gasped and felt Alistair wrap his arms around me, pulling me close to his body. "Not half as beautiful as you though," he whispered. "I love you, my Reniselille."  
And for the first time, I did not mind that he had spoken my real name. Because it was true, and I was his.  
I soon discovered that Leliana, the sweet orlesian bard, had the soul of a tyrant. As soon as they had discovered me and Alistair on the tower, she had pulled me away from him so hard that she almost jerked my arm out of its socket. She had then dragged me through the palace and down into a room I had never entered, which was almost completely devoid of any furniture aside from a vanity against the wall, on the far side of the spacious room. Wynne and the others were already waiting.  
"Sit." Leliana demanded, pointing at the chair imperiously. I sat.  
"Don't move." She grumbled as she left the room. I didn't dare even blink. Instead I shot a fearful look at Wynne. She laughed.  
"She went to wake you about an hour ago, and when she found you were not in your bed, she thought you'd managed to escape." She told me, obviously amused by the whole situation. "She almost tore this place apart trying to find you when one of the guards told her she'd seen Alistair creeping up toward the east tower."  
I was still in my nightgown and I was beginning to feel a little cold but I didn't allow myself to shiver. It was my own fault for venturing out half-naked. When Leliana returned, she was carrying a huge box in her hands and two young maids were carrying my wedding dress between them. Two burly guardsmen followed, carrying a mirror that looked even taller than my old friend Sten and two times as wide, and I began to relax. At least I'll be able to see what I looked like before I was presented to Alistair. My stomach did a funny little flip.  
I waited patiently as Leliana and the girls began their work. As Leliana applied strange powders and liquids to my face, especially around the eyes and over my lips, three aged women meticulously twisted, braided and lifted my hair into some sort of over-complicated arrangement on top of my head. One of the women shuffled over to the box and pulled out a smaller, more ornate box, and then shuffled back to where her fellows her holding my hair in place. She then opened the case with flourish, and carefully lifted an intricate mesh of silver from inside. It took me a moment to realise that it was a glittering tiara, which was so perfectly made that even by looking at it; someone could tell that it was a priceless treasure, complete with perfect sparkling sapphires along the bottom and one in the shape of a teardrop that would rest upon my brow. It was magnificent. The old woman gently placed it upon my head, and as one, all three women took a step back.  
"When you take that off, your hair will become undone, and will flood down in a general–" She motioned with her hand "-that way, direction, and should rest over the shoulder your wedding dress will not cover. Should be perfect for when you and Alistair retire tonight." I couldn't help the blush that rose through my cheeks. It was all very well and good having sex with someone you loved, but having such activities scrutinised and even encouraged, went a little beyond my comfort barrier. After all, Alistair was the first person I had slept with. The only person...  
"Very nice Alyson," Leliana approved, stepping back to admire the affect. "We've finished the make-up, and now we just need to get her in her dress. Did you find the shoes?"  
The shoes were plain, but at the same time, beautiful. They looked like the little pumps my mother always tried to make me wear when I was younger, pure white and covered in silk, the only embellishments were six or so sequins sewn into the side of the shoe, shining like oil on water.  
It took an hour to fit me into my dress, and as I stood on the stool, being prodded and poked by these quite scary women, I wondered if every woman went to her wedding feeling violated and overly irritated. I did not like being poked and I certainly didn't like having my wrist slapped as I reached up to touch my hair. I was beginning to understand what Morrigan was talking about offensive intrusions as she so aptly called it. I was beginning to feel sticky, and that didn't help with my already fried nerves and I was starting to fidget. I wasn't prepared to get married, not like this.  
A cool breath of air touched me, and flooded between my skin and the folds of silk that was pressed against my skin, cooling my breathing and allowing my tensed body to relax. I looked down at Wynne and she smiled up at me, wiggling the fingers of one hand, and I smiled my thanks, even as Leliana hopped up on the stool with me to tie up the bodice.  
It didn't take long after that, and I was finally allowed to stand before the giant mirror and see what they had all done to me. The result took my breath away. I was glad of my choice to grow my hair, because now those three women had managed to somehow curl the main body of it, but in a way that it was not loose, and somehow held up by the tiara. Elegant braids looped and twisted about my head, clinging to the tiara and if it had been done in any other way, it would've just looked like an over elaborate mass on top of my head, but it was elegant, and beautiful, and it complemented the dress perfectly.  
I found I had been wrong about the dress. It was white, there was no contesting that, but at the angle I was looking at it now, the light streaming through the narrow windows had turned the lower stretch of the skirt into a beautiful ice blue, the same blue that had been painstakingly sewn into the bodice in an intricate vine-like pattern. The skirt was ruffled, beautifully, and the train stretched for several metres behind me, where Leliana was gently unfolding the material. Then, with infinite care, the little girl, Kathlena, who was lifted up by one of the younger helpers, threw the white gauzy veil over my head and let it settle.  
Half the city had been summoned to attend the wedding, and those who were not important enough to attend had congregated outside, so they could all say they were 'present' when the King married his betrothed. So the streets leading up to the Royal Palace of Denerim were, in short, packed. There had been a few arguments as to where the royal wedding was to take place but Alistair had put his foot down – several times but no one listened until he threatened to hold the wedding in Orlais – and so it was going to take place in the grand hall in the Royal Palace, and not the Chantry like some people had wanted. The revered mother included.  
So as we waited in the room, which I soon realised was an antechamber just off the main hall, I heard hundreds of footsteps as people slowly meandered into the Grand Hall, that was supposedly decorated wonderfully for the occasion. If it had been, Alistair wouldn't have had a hand in it, but I highly suspected some of the more frivolous members of court.  
It did not take half as long for Leliana and Wynne to get ready. Kathlena was already dressed in a lovely little lavender dress, and daises and violets were braided into her thick hair. She looked adorable. Leliana had followed the lavender vein, but her dress was longer, sleeker and far sexier. It had a long slit up the right side, where it flashed the flesh of her leg in a very tantalising way, no matter how orlesian. Wynne was to give me away, as I had no parents anymore, and her dress was a simple white affair that rose around her neck with a thick wealth of lace, and her hair, for a change, was down.  
A low buzz of conversation was beginning to flood from behind the door, signalling that many guests had already taken their seats, and were already waiting for the ceremony to begin. I listened to the buzz for three whole minutes before the music began and Kathlena resolutely walked to the door to the main hall. She pulled open the door and took a brazen step out onto the carpeted aisle.  
The first thing I thought was how could so many people cram into the hall in such a small amount of time, and my second thought was forget this, I'm going back to bed. I didn't deal well with crowds. I took a deep breath and followed her, keeping my eyes lowered like I had been instructed, while keeping my back straight and holding the bouquet of flowers that had been pressed into my hand about a minute before the doors had opened. There was a gasp that ran through the rows of onlookers as we passed them, but I could not tell whether that was because of me, or because of Leliana's risqué dress, merely because I was not looking. I wanted so bad to glance up and look over to my husband to be and let his eyes soothe my frantic heart, but I had to wait until I had reached the altar. One more step closer. One more step.  
It seemed impossible, but with every step that I took, it felt like I was drawing further from my Alistair, that I was dragged away from him, even though I couldn't see anything but the crimson carpet I was slowly walking up. I guessed that I was the very vision of patience of serenity, yet inside I was screaming. I wanted nothing more than for this ceremony to be over.  
After what seemed like centuries, I finally reached the altar where the Revered Mother and my husband to be were standing close by to one another, Arl Eamon standing beside Alistair like his own personal knight. Slowly, I raised my head and stared into the face of my beloved.  
He was crying. Fresh tears were flooding down his cheeks, although his face was composed, and he gave me a tiny, weak, and a little apologetic, smile. I lifted my left hand slowly and he quickly grasped it, using the movement to mask how much he was really shaking. His palms were sweating.  
The Revered Mother cleared her throat. "We gather today, under the gaze of the Maker, to bear witness to a very special union, not only the holy union of a man and woman but of our king and his chosen consort..." I was barely listening. I was staring at Alistair's face hungrily, trying to forget where we were and what we were doing, wrapping ourselves in the little bubble we had been in this morning on the tower watching the sunrise. His hand became surer on mine. I drew in a deep breath and smiled, his lips quirking upward to match mine. It was okay. We were serene. I hadn't even noticed what he was wearing, only that it was metal and ornamental, and stank of rust.  
WOOF! I froze.  
Oh dear god. The Revered Mother's speech faltered and a ripple of muttering expanded from where we stood. Alistair winced and held onto my hand tighter. I tried to ignore it and no more barking ensued.  
The Revered Mother cleared her throat again and continued with the passage.  
WOOF! WOOF WOOF! Grrr! WOOF! I knew it was too good to hope he'd be good for one minute. I half turned my head and my eye met those of my Mabari Warhound, Tynian. His stumpy tail was going, his whole backside thrashing manically, before he let loose one last bark and charged up the aisle, from where a Kennel Keeper was trying to keep the beast in check. Is should have known that that weedy little man could not stop Tynian when he really wanted something. The revered mother gasped and took a step back, almost hiding behind the altar as Tynian continued his charge, barking happily as he did so. Alistair and I exchanged a fearful look before Alistair clenched his eyes shut.  
The force of impact was phenomenal. My Mabari had formed a soft spot where my betrothed was concerned, and it had been a game to Tynian where he would quickly close the distance between himself and Alistair as fast as possible and bowl him over. Obviously the long open aisle was too much temptation for my dog and he just had to get Alistair back for stepping smartly to the side the last time he tried it so many months before. In fact I had a sneaking suspicion that Tynian knew that it was the wrong time to play. Alistair was thrown to the floor, and Tynian stood on his chest, barking smugly before bending over and giving his face a sound licking. He then leapt down and trotted quite happily back to where the Kennel Keeper stood, who was obviously having serious thoughts about leaving before the king realised whose fault it was that Tynian wasn't kept in check.  
A strained ripple of laughter went through the crowd, which increased when Alistair stumbled to his feet, laughing sheepishly also. The Revered Mother, however, did not look impressed.  
When she finally managed to finish the passage, she glared between Alistair and I, as if daring us to make any issue about it before she carried on with the service. "Does anyone here present know of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony?" She announced to the crowd.  
"If anyone does, there's going to be a few executions," Alistair joked, just loud enough for me and the scowling Revered Mother to hear. My dog barked again, and the crowd chortled. The Kennel Keeper suddenly decided that it was time to remove the dog from temptation. The Revered Mother motioned to Alistair and he gently took both my hands, obviously trying to see my face through my veil.  
"Reniselille." He spoke my name like a prayer. "When I first met you, our whole existence and that of Ferelden itself had been cast into doubt and darkness. We were both Grey Wardens, set out to fight the Blight at our doorstep, and we had been thrown together without anything that seemed like a thought, to fight something that was so much bigger than any of us." He held my hands tighter. "In that dark time, you became my guiding Light, everything about you just felt like home to me, you gave me hope. You gave me laughter. You gave me something that no one else could. Your Heart. I loved you from the very moment I saw you, it just took my heart a while to catch up with the enormity of what you meant to me. And now you're about to be mine, and I promise you, I will love you until the day I die. Even beyond."  
I wanted to weep. He was speaking from his heart, and with every word he uttered, I knew they were as true as the ones that had followed. I took a deep breath even as he gently pushed a ring onto my finger, his eyes never leaving mine.  
I swallowed a sob before it could escape. "My Alistair." I whispered, hoarsely. I cleared my throat and started again. "There have been many times where I have almost lost my way. I remember standing on the brink of terror trying to fight back hysteria and fear and feeling myself fail. And then I'd remember you. Alistair, you are my whole world, and you always have been, even before I knew someone could mean that much to me. Alistair, I promise to be the best wife a husband ever had. I will be the strength in your back and the steel in your heart. I will be the carrier of your burdens and the mother of your children," Alistair's eyes began to water again, as mine threatened to do the same. "And I will never stop loving you. You are my world, and I am safe in your heart." A single tear drifted down my cheek and Alistair reached out to me but I gave a miniscule shake of my head. "Wait," I mouthed.  
He nodded and then glanced at the Revered Mother, who was obviously having trouble not tearing up herself. "My Lords, Ladies and esteemed guests... under the gaze of the Maker, I pronounce this couple husband and wife, King and Queen." She smiled. "You may kiss the bride."  
"Finally." I saw Alistair mouth, and he grasped the veil and flung it from my head, but he did not wait to watch it drift lazily to the floor. Instead he leant forward and pressed his hungry lips to mine, his arms finding my body and pulling me against him forcefully. I felt the tremor in his kiss, that told me that he couldn't believe I was his, and the hungry need that was beginning to leave me breathless. I found that I just could not wait for today to be over and I could finally be in his arms as his wife, and feel him make love to me, as my husband. My whole body was trembling with desire as he pulled away, and by the look in his eyes, I could tell that I was not the only one who could not wait until tonight.  
The cheers that had erupted when Alistair had claimed my lips with his own took a long time to die down, but as we left the Grand Hall, hand in hand, I barely even heard the noise at all. For inside, I was singing.  
I was very relieved to see that before the wedding party in the brief moment where Alistair and I had been separated, someone had helped him out of his ornamental armour and he was now wearing an elegant blue doublet and black hose. It had started to worry me how he proposed to get out of it and keep the romantic atmosphere intact once we had retired for the night, but it was obvious that my husband had thought ahead, which was so unlike him. I suspected outside assistance.  
Once the party began, all I wanted was for it to end. I loved the well wishers, and the impromptu dances I shared with Leliana, Wynne and some of the palace maids, even Zevran, and I didn't grow tired of people telling me how beautiful I looked, but I just wanted my personal time with my new husband. The only husband I would ever have. Finally, after hours upon hours of dancing, eating and drinking and talking, the revellers had begun to meander out of the halls and into the gardens surrounding the palace, which was the unofficial signal that it was time for the royal couple to retire.  
We managed to get up the stairs in a nice sedate manner, but with each accidental brush of our skin, an electric current seemed to race through us, and we would increase our speed, only to slow down for the sake of appearances. Alistair knew where we were going, and so he led us to the royal chambers, his eyes continuously flicking to my face. My hair, amazingly, had still been held up by the tiara, and I was beginning to become quite excited about the effect my loose hair would have on my husband. I smiled.  
I barely noticed the bed when we walked into the chambers, I barely noticed anything, because I was too busy waiting for the click that would signal the door being closed and locked, our own private haven secure.  
 _Click._  
Instantly, his lips crushed against mine, and his arms formed that crushing hold on me once again, his body filled with the need that had beset us both since this morning. I kissed him back ferociously, my hands snarling in his short hair, even has his hand lifted up to pull the tiara from my head. He leant back a little as he removed it and my hair slipped from the intricate design the ladies had painstakingly weaved it into and it flooded down my back in elegant ringlets, stopping Alistair's breathing completely.  
I don't think there are really any words for what happened to me that night, aside from the very real change that occurred inside of me. I had always been in love with Alistair, but now he was mine, and the hold I had on him was almost tangible, was far more real than I could ever expect. I lay on the bed with Alistair's body covering mine, the sweat slick between us as he rocked, softly, so unlike how he had been a few moments before. My breathing was deep, and I was obviously struggling to get my breath back. He gently kissed my throat, one of his hands trailing lingeringly over my breasts. "I love you." I whispered softly to him, and I heard and felt him chuckle against my skin.  
"And I love you, my queen." He murmured, the vibration of his voice making my body arch a little, a little gasp escaping my parted lips. He groaned appreciatively and gently nibbled before jerking back into his former rhythm. I did not know what my life with Alistair would hold, I only hoped that I would continue to love him above all else. But then, how could someone place the love of their lover above the love of something that is just as important? My life was never simple, and after the Blight had been defeated, I thought I would reach some normality. It seemed I was destined to lead a very strange, but strangely satisfying life.


	3. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young woman realises her worst fear...

My eyes fluttered open on the first day of the rest of my life, and I felt Alistair's hand gently stroke my stomach with his fingertips, absently as it seemed, because, when I slowly turned my head toward him, his eyes were searching my face. "Good morning love," He whispered huskily. I smiled, and reached a hand up to brush his cheek as my green-blue eyes searched his.  
"What time is it?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep. I tried to clear it, but I remembered that Alistair was no stranger to my morning self.  
"About an hour after sunrise." The doors to the large balcony had been thrown open and the summer breeze was wafting in, pushing the gossamer drapes back like ghosts on the wind. For some reason, it seemed like the smell of smoke did not reach us here, just cut grass and pollen, and the birds outside were chirping their beautiful but discordant song, warming my still-stunned heart.  
I looked around the sun-drenched room, trying not to yawn. "How long have you been awake?"  
"A few hours." He grinned slyly. I raised an eyebrow.  
"What have you been doing?"  
A slight blush crept up his cheeks. "I… I've been watching you sleep. You're so beautiful and peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you… but then, the servants will be here any moment with breakfast. Unless they would consider letting us have the day off. Do you think they'd do that? If I asked really nicely?"  
"You could always try." I said. "After all, you are king, just wave your arms and order them around a bit. They can't exactly refuse can they?"  
He grinned. "Why didn't I marry you sooner? You're making all sorts of sense."  
I snorted. "Well, I am the brains of the outfit." I giggled as he suddenly jerked forward and pushed me against the feather mattress again, pinning me down by the wrists.  
"If you're the brains of the outfit…" He said slowly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the hollow of my throat. "Get out of this…" My heart was pounding frantically against my chest as I felt his body pressed against mind, a firm reminder of last night, and I could feel that it hadn't escaped him either. He grinned, pushed my wrists together above my head so he could hold them both with one hand, while the other trailed down my body, painfully slowly. This touch trailed fire under my skin, and goosebumps rose where his fingers had touched, his eyes never leaving mine. By now he could read the fire in my eyes and know what it meant, but he was going about his business incredibly slowly, and it was beginning to frustrate me. I let out an impatient moan, even as his hand brushed against my hip, and to my thigh. He parted my legs and moved between them, pressing his length against my entrance, but moving no further. I was shaking, unable to do anything but move my legs, but there was nothing they could do. He grinned, and began to move forward, but froze when there was a polite but oddly insistent knock at the door.  
"Ignore it." I murmured to him desperately. His eyes were locked onto mine, and obviously waving in indecision. This was the first morning we would spend as husband and wife, and I didn't want to ruin it, and it was evident that he thought the same, but I could see that he had a responsibility now and he was trying his best to forget that.  
"Your Majesty? I have your breakfast, and then we have an emissary from Antiva who wishes to speak with you." The servant's voice was oddly hesitant and my husband's face darkened. And then he proved to me how much he had picked up during our brief stint in Orzammar.  
"Oh just sod off!" He called at the door before he pressed his lips to mine, thrusting forward suddenly into me.  
The weeks that followed were, for the lack of a better word, strange. I was the centre of attention for the first few days, which, after my hero's celebration six months before, didn't particularly faze me. The strange thing was that rather than crying women telling me that I had saved their sons and daughters from the Blight, I was surrounded by fawning courtiers who leaned conspiratorially toward me and placed compliment over brown-nosing compliment about anything about my person, ranging from my hair, my eyes or the fact that I was positively glowing. It was obvious what they wanted, so it wasn't much of a surprise when my husband had broached the subject one night while we were trying our hardest not to sleep.  
"They're hoping to get personally closer to you." He said after a heated complaint about one of the fawning bastards from a very irritated little Queen. "Closer to the member of the royal family means the possibility of a higher place in court. A trusted advisor or such. Or they think you might want to take one of them into your bed if things get tense between us." The last sentence was spoken casually but I could hear the worry in his tone.  
I frowned. "Alistair. We've been married for three weeks now. And I am as in love with you now as I was on the day I realised that I wanted to be with you forever. So why would I even consider taking up with any of those greasy twits? And as for them becoming my trusted advisors, I don't need advisors. I'm an old fashioned girl, I was brought up to believe that men rule the kingdoms while the women have the babies."  
He thought on this. Obviously hearing me call them 'greasy twits' cheered him up immensely, but after a moment, his face fell and his hand sought mine.  
"We still don't know…" He tried to continue but found that my finger was hard to talk through.  
"I know. But I'm remaining optimistic. I wanted nothing more than to be your wife. Now I have that. Now I want nothing more than to be the mother of your children. I'm wielding hope like a weapon, and it's worked alright so far." He smiled at my words and then grasped my hand again, kissing my fingers, then my wrist, down my arm, over my chest, affectively ending that conversation completely.  
But then not everything about my life was about Alistair and I, as much as I hated to think on anything else. I was Princess-Consort Reniselille and this meant I had things to do – things that involved sitting on a stiff-backed chair while landowners droned on about inconsequential numbers and figures and expected me to give a damn. And then they went as far as expecting me to give some sort of reaction.  
Wynne had told me that these people were of little consequence and were definitely not important enough to be seen by Alistair himself. Even me giving them the time of day was pushing it a little, but she stood dutifully on the opposite side of the room, sending me minute signals in answer to his requests. I was beginning to pick things up and wondered if Alistair had been struggling so much with this like I was, but then, I remembered, he had been almost glued to Arl Eamon for the last few weeks.  
It was two and a half months into my marriage to Alistair when things began to get interesting.  
We were sitting in the grand dining hall one rainy morning, eating breakfast in companionable silence when the doors to the south were thrown open and a small man came charging into the room, with a detachment of royal guards hot on his tail. Alistair was on his feet, his eyes wide in alarm, while I watched calmly from my seat, half-smiling as the elf gave a quick bow as soon as he reached the end of the table before the guards were upon him.  
There was the scrape of metal as the guards jostled around the elven man, until two of the guards had enough sense to back off while the other two seized his arms. The elf winced. "Ah, your security as improved I see." He tried to smile but the guard on his right yanked hard on his arm. He groaned. "Nice to know you follow my advice."  
"Oh let him go." My voice sounded disgusted. Alistair grinned and sat down again, reaching for a slice of freshly baked bread as the guards looked at each other, obviously confused. But they did as they were told, and the elf rolled his shoulders and clicked his neck before he grinned at me.  
"Your Majesties," He bowed again, a movement that looked partially sarcastic. I mirrored Alistair's grin.  
"You didn't have to sneak in Zev," Alistair told him buttering the bread and laying two slices of bacon on it. He looked at it and then added an egg, before reaching for another piece of bread. "The door is always open to you." He looked up and nodded to the guards, obviously dismissing them. They left, but they still kept wary eyes upon Zevran. But I couldn't really blame them; he was obviously armed and wore tight-fitting black leather armour, complete with a wide leather bandoleer that crossed over his right shoulder and sported six thin sheathes, complete with six needle-pointed knives with ebony handles. Coupled with his white-blond hair, he almost looked monochromatic.  
The antivan elf laughed. "Ahh, but it is more fun this way! Besides… I wanted to test your security."  
I looked up from my eggs, interested. Zevran's security checks were not normally so practical. "Is something going on?" He normally crouched atop the palace walls and watched the guards. This was unprecedented.  
The first look of consternation crossed Zevran's usually uncaring face and he pulled back a chair at the end of the table, sitting several yards away from where Alistair sat at the head of the table. He had forgotten his sandwich and was now staring at Zevran, a frown on his face. "There's something going on in the city… I am, ah, unsure as to what as of yet, but it is definitely part of the underground – thieves, cutthroats, whores… There are also rumours of Maleficar."  
"Where did you hear this?" I was glad to hear my voice was stable.  
Zevran grinned despite the seriousness of the conversation. "You wouldn't propose to force private information from your personal spy would you?"  
I narrowed my eyes. "Come on Zev. You know me better than that. Even if you were… ah… entertaining, I'm sure my innocence can withstand it." I smirked. "Unless she is a he, then perhaps you can spare me the details."  
Alistair had just recaptured interest in his bacon and egg sandwich when I had spoken and he attempted to breathe it in his shock. I had to fight to keep the ghost of a smile off my face as I slapped his back, my husband coughing up chunks of bread and bacon. Lovely.  
Zevran did not have my self-control and burst into gales of merciless laughter at Alistair's now bright pink face, beating his palm against the very expensive table with tears in his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was laughing at my words, Alistair's reaction or if I was dead on the money. As soon as Alistair could breathe without choking on his breakfast, I sat back down and stared at Zevran like nothing had happened. He was still chortling to himself as his gaze met mine but then sobered almost immediately.  
"Whores hear a lot, Lily." He explained. "People see them for what they are on the outside but seem to forget that they have ears and eyes also. Ah, if you do not mind… please do not repeat this – I am giving up trade secrets here."  
Alistair levelled a look at Zevran, his cheeks still slightly pink. "So you heard from a whore that there is unrest in the underground of Denerim? And that Maleficar may be involved?" I could hear the scepticism in his voice and found myself inwardly agreeing. Despite the fact that it was so soon after the Blight, there had been hardly any trouble from the likes of even petty criminals, let alone apostates and Maleficar, when most of these people should be taking advantage of the way our forces were stretched over the whole of Ferelden. I shuddered.  
"We'll have someone look into it–" Alistair began but he stopped when he saw Zevran shaking his head.  
"No need Alistair. I can handle it. I just thought I would tell you how things stand." He smiled his blinding smile. "It might even be fun!" He glanced to me. "Not that working for the crown isn't fun… it's just… I haven't killed anyone in such a long time. May have an opportunity for some good self defence."  
I grimaced. "Never mind Zev," I told him, but a small smile fluttered at the corner of my mouth and his grin brightened in response. He stood up quickly and gave us another bow, this one just oozing sarcasm, before he just about danced to the door and left us in a slightly shocked silence.  
"Well." Alistair said, clearing his throat a little. "That was interesting." Master of understatement once again.  
"Mmm." I nodded and looked down at my full plate again. My stomach gave a bit of a queasy wobble and I chewed my lip, before throwing my fork down and fleeing the room. I was going to be sick. Everywhere unless someone fetched me a pail, right about now.  
A maid gave me a surprised look as I ran down the corridor and I stopped in front of her, my hand over my mouth. "Pail," was all I managed before I heaved, but, thankfully, nothing came out. She nodded and disappeared into a doorway, thankfully only a yard or two down the corridor before she returned, a decent sized bucket in her hands.  
This time I wasn't so lucky. She passed me the pail and I was immediately sick but as my stomach was empty of all but a few bites of egg, the majority of what I threw up was bile and it burned my throat and nose as it came out.  
I knew why I was sick. The thought of Maleficar, no matter now blasé I seemed, absolutely terrified me. Whenever I thought of the word, it conjured images from the Tower of the Magi; blood mages, which where the best known side of the Maleficarum, turning everyone they could into abominations while destroying the rest. I was scared beyond my wits.  
I fell to my knees and continued to heave until I felt arms about my shoulders, and my nose caught Alistair's familiar scent; the rust smell that would probably always follow him after over a year of wearing nothing much besides metal armour.  
"Are you okay?" He asked me softly, his lips at my ear.  
I shook my head dumbly and heaved again though now my stomach as completely empty and nothing came up. He squeezed me a little but then looked at the maid who was still standing close by, looking awkward.  
"Can you fetch Wynne for me please?" His voice was soft and gentle. Calm. I clung to him as my heart pounded against my chest, the dizzy feeling finally passing. My Alistair. My rock. "Tell her to come to the royal chambers."  
"Of course, your Majesty." I heard her retreating footsteps and pulled in a huge breath. I could open my eyes without my vision swimming – the nausea had hopefully passed.  
Without a word, Alistair gently lifted me from the floor and into his strong arms like I weighed nothing at all and carried me through the halls of the Royal Palace and I kept my eyes open, staring up at the arched stone ceilings and counting the footsteps between each glowing chandelier. It didn't take too long for Alistair to carry me to our bedroom but Wynne was already waiting for us there with the maid he had sent, her brow creased in worry.  
"Is she okay?" She asked Alistair.  
He grunted and nodded toward the bedroom door, which Wynne immediately moved to open, allowing Alistair to pass and lay me gently onto the huge bed. He stroked my face and peered into my eyes.  
I smiled wanly. "The world has stopped spinning now." I told him, though my voice sounded pitiful, even to my own ears. He smiled in relief but moved away so Wynne could look me over. I trusted Wynne, but I hated the attention. I just wanted to curl up and let my fear take me with no one to see my weakness.  
"She doesn't have a fever." Announced Wynne after she had brushed her soft hand against my forehead. "Do you feel sick now, dear?" I shook my head. "Do you think you could keep some food down?"  
I thought back to my breakfast and grimaced, the remembered smell of the sausages causing my stomach to turn over. I shook my head again. Her face fell a little. She turned to the maid that had returned with Wynne. "Could you go to the kitchens and get some bread and water?"  
I opened my mouth to object as the maid disappeared but she smiled. "Just in case dear." She soothed.  
Of course. I suddenly realised that I had never been really ill around Wynne before and now that I had I knew first hand that she was as much as a tyrant about illnesses as Leliana was about weddings. I groaned inwardly. I had some explaining to do before she started insisting on bed rest all day. I'd go insane.  
"I was just frightened." I told her. Alistair froze at the foot of the bed, looking over at me and Wynne frowned.  
It was Alistair who spoke next. "Scared of what?"  
I sat up, pulling the coverlet of the bed with me, my eyes flicking from Wynne to Alistair to back down to the red fabric over my body. There was not one sign that either one was judging me so I took a deep, shaking breath and looked up again. "I'm scared of Maleficar." I managed after a moment of silence.  
"Maleficar?" This was Wynne, and her voice sounded confused.  
The Tower had affected me more than I was willing to admit, but I dutifully explained my fear, watched her grave face as she listened to my words, whilst being hyper-aware of Alistair pacing at the foot of the bed, lost in either my words, or his own thoughts. I wasn't sure which one I preferred.  
Wynne sat on the bed beside me as I finished, her face straight and no humour in her tone. Would they not blame me for being scared? "But why would this fear affect you so badly now? There have been no sightings within leagues of here for months."  
"Our little elven friend visited earlier and told us that Maleficar might be behind the troubles in Denerim. He said he would find out for himself and get back to us." Alistair explained, his eyes seeing nothing as he looked at the intricate pattern on the red and gold carpet.  
"And how did he find out about this?"  
"He was… entertaining." Alistair was always careful about what he said to his almost-surrogate mother.  
"Oh." The old mage looked back at me, placing her hand on mine. "So the thought of Maleficar scared you?"  
I nodded. Wynne's hand felt oddly nice on mine. Comforting.  
Suddenly, Alistair was there too, but on the other side of me, having clambered onto the bed quickly to pull me against his body. He was very warm and I leant into him, letting out the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding in a huge sigh. "You have nothing to be afraid of. We have mages protecting us as well as our usual guardsmen, and I'm pretty sure Zev would raise the alarm if any were even close to the idea of coming to the palace. We're as safe as a pig with a vegetarian." Wynne wrinkled her nose at Alistair's last sentence but flowed gracefully to her feet.  
"Are you going to be okay now Lily?" She asked kindly.  
"Thank you Wynne. I should be fine now."  
She smiled. "Good. In which case, I have some things I need to take care of. Don't hesitate to send for me if I am needed. Take care." And she quickly left the room, closing the doors behind her.  
We were silent for a long time, just listening to the rain lash against the windows but it was not as awkward as I had feared. It was nice to just be held, comforted by Alistair. He gently stroked my hair before he finally began to speak.  
"You know, I never thought that you would be scared of anything." He told me quietly. "You killed the Archdemon, defeated the Blight and married me! Not for the fainthearted." It was obvious he was trying to lighten the mood.  
Sighing, I closed my eyes and, resting my cheek on his chest again, listened to his heart. If I admitted my silly Maleficar fear, I may as well be honest about the others. "I've been scared a lot of times. I'm scared of Maleficar, I was scared of the archdemon… Terrified of the Broodmother… you know that I'm actually scared of spiders? Not the huge ones we saw in the Deep Roads, I'm talking little mini spiders, the ones the size of your thumb." I looked up at him and he was looking down at me in consternation.  
"Stop baring all. You're going to make me sound like a wimp when you guilt me into telling you all my fears." He grumbled, fiddling with a loose thread on my bodice. I lifted myself up, leaning on my elbow to get a better view of his face.  
I grinned. "What are you scared of?"  
His smile faded. "Losing you." He said softly and my eyes almost automatically rolled.  
"That's never going to happen, so that doesn't count. Next."  
He smiled and leant back, the very picture of calm and relaxation. His smile faded a little and his face became more serious, I wasn't fooled though. "Scared of beards. There were many moments when I thought Oghren's was about to leap off his face and throttle me. That dwarf's beard was an entity all of its own." He grinned hugely at me.  
"Be serious Alistair. It's only me here…"  
"Oh I know. I'm not used to admitting fear. It was always charge! Clean up… Charge! Clean up… We never really had a chance for fear. But you know… one thing that really got to me, was how… inconsequential everything else seemed under the threat of the Blight. Yes I know it was this huge thing, and everyone would've died if we couldn't stop it, but there were other things there as well. Like Sten for example; he had killed a farmhouse full of people and he was thrown in a cage until someone could decide what to do with him – yes I know it was panic over losing his sword but they didn't know that. They were too busy worrying about themselves because of the Blight. And that girl in Redcliffe Chantry, looking for her brother… why hadn't anyone else tried to help her? I don't know what I'm trying to say here… maybe I'm afraid of no one caring about me. Maybe something so immense will happen that my feelings will be forgotten?"  
I frowned and stroked his face. "I will never forget you Alistair. You're my husband and I love you. No matter what happens. You will always be my first and final thought. Your happiness is my joy." I felt incredibly silly for saying these things out loud but I knew my husband needed the comfort.  
He smiled and then pulled me against him again.  
That night, I slept badly. My dreams were flooded with Blood Mages, abominations and the other horrors we encountered in the Tower of Magi. I had been walking though the bloodstained halls, my feet making no sound upon the floor, while my swords slipped in my sweaty grip, encountering nothing but hearing whispers and the wet sound of blood dripping into wide, deep crimson puddles. My gown clung to me like a second skin, enhancing the feeling of vulnerability that had struck me since I had entered the Tower. And I knew, somehow... that I wasn't alone, seeing movement in the corner of my eye, but feeling it disappear as soon as I moved my head to see.  
I woke up with the feeling that my stomach was about to jump out of my throat and I barely had time to throw the covers off me and run to the pail the maid had thankfully laid aside for me. For the second time in two days, I was violently sick.  
As I retched, I heard rustling behind me that marked the movement of Alistair and he padded over to me, smoothing my hair away from my face and murmuring words of comfort. Never had I been so scared of something that I would throw up at the mere thought of it, I thought as I clung to the pail, and it gave me a feeling of abject weakness that I did not like at all. Something was happening to me. And I couldn't for the life of me figure out what.


	4. Niceties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young woman discovers what she has wanted all along...

"I've had enough!"  
My temper flared. Again. I had been walking down the corridor to the dining hall for breakfast with half a bloody score of palace guards and half a dozen mages marching loyally along with me. They were escorting me to breakfast; just in case the rumour of Maleficar in Denerim proved to be more than just rumour and they just happened to choose the crack of bloody dawn to attack the sleepy and annoyed queen. I turned to face them all, my eyes flashing dangerously. "Do you have to follow me everywhere!" I demanded, a slight whining note coming into my normally strong voice.  
I hardly ever let my temper get the better of me. There had been a few times, the episode where I finally caught up to the snake Arl Howe being one, but I was normally a calm, levelheaded example of kindness and patience. But I was stressed. Stressed with the constant detachment of brainless guards. Stressed with the idea of Maleficar. So stressed that the worried sickness that had beset me at the thought of Maleficar had not yet abated and my body was beginning to suffer from it. My period, which had been extremely light the last month, had now been delayed completely, knocking me out of balance even further. I was irritable and Alistair had taken to escaping the bed early to avoid my wrath. Smart move. I didn't want to make him suffer with my anger.  
One of the guards, the leader of this particular group, I assumed, hesitantly moved forward. He was covered in chainmail and I was garbed in the usual flimsy silk affairs my ladies-in-waiting had pressed into my wardrobe, so it made no sense whatsoever that he should be frightened of me. But I could almost smell his fear.  
"We are only acting upon the urges of your trusted advisor, Zevran." He said, his voice carrying strongly, despite his obvious fear. I almost choked on the retorted I had arranged, forgetting it completely when another phrase clawed its way up my throat.  
"Trusted advisor?"  
He bowed fluidly. "His Majesty assured me that the Antivan fellow is a very close friend of yours, and you would benefit greatly if he acted as such." He had calmed a little at my speechless face, now it was totally devoid of anger and a knowing, oddly smug, tone had wheedled into his voice.  
"This was Alistair's idea?" I almost spat the words.  
"It was his Majesty who gave the title of advisor to your friend, Zevran. But it was his idea to increase the amount of guards guarding your person on a day-to-day basis, your Highness. It is only your safety they care about."  
"Well it's bloody obvious they don't care about my sodding sanity. Ugh." I turned and stomped away, but almost immediately turned back to the guards. "You know what? Sod off. The lot of you. Go play cards or what have you. I don't care. Go on! Shoo! I refuse to be followed around like a naughty child." When they didn't move, I glowered impressively. "Did you not hear me? I said sod off!" As one the detachment of guards saluted, a shade hesitantly, and turned, the mages following but sending slightly hurt looks back at me, like dogs that had just been kicked.  
I let out an explosive sigh.  
"Well. That was quite the display." I whirled around, rebuke already set upon my hurtful tongue, before I realised whom it was. Wynne was leaning out of a doorway a few yards from where I was standing, a sheet of aged parchment in her hands. "Are you quite okay, dear? You seem… irritated."  
Sighing again, I made my way, a little regretfully with my shoulders slumped, toward Wynne. "I'm tired." The whining note was back in my voice. "I haven't been sleeping well."  
She frowned. "Dreams still? Or the sickness?" she turned back into what I gathered was her study of sorts and I followed her, automatically. It was a small room, but cosy, the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with huge mahogany bookcases, which were full to spilling with countless volumes, and a cheerful fire was crackling in a friendly way in the fireplace behind her modest but beautiful desk. The whole room smelled of paper and ink, and I closed my eyes to draw in the smell, remembering my father's study with fondness.  
"Both." It was easy to talk to Wynne, and to be around her was as natural as breathing. She reminded me a whole lot of my own mother, giving me a sense of comfort I had long since been without. Again I sighed, and relaxed my posture, feeling the tension lift a little. I didn't feel like Princess-Consort Reniselille when I was around Wynne; I just felt like Lily. It was the same feeling I had when I was around my Alistair, when I wasn't biting his head off.  
"Still? My dear Lily, it's been weeks, you cannot still be worrying about the Maleficar threat Zevran spoke of can you? There has been no real word of absolute truth about this matter. Do not stress yourself needlessly." She laid a hand on my arm, and smiled kindly, but something seemed not quite right.  
"I…" I chewed my lip. "I'm not sure if it's just my fear that has caused my problems." My heart skipped a beat.  
I had been pushing the idea out of my head for days, since it had crept up on me, but now that Wynne's tone had reminded me how silly it was to think it was only my fear that had made me so ill for so long, there was no other explanation. But I also did not want to get my hopes up… or Alistair's.  
"What do you mean?" She frowned in confusion, even as my heart hammered in my chest. Oh please Maker. Please.  
"My flow has been delayed. I mean, it hasn't happened." I took a deep breath. "It normally coincides with the full moon."  
Wynne stared at me in wonder. "Lily, the full moon was a full week ago."  
"I am aware of that."  
She stared at me for the longest time then moved to her bookshelf, seemingly picking a book at random before moving to her desk and leaning upon it. She skimmed the first page quickly, the flipped to somewhere around the middle of the book and frowned. "Sickness, mood swings, intense dreaming, lack of flow. Changes in appetite?"  
"Definitely." I remembered the smell of sausages and almost heaved. When she didn't reply, I stared at her for what felt like a century. "Wynne?" She looked up, worry in her eyes. "Could I be with child?"  
She sighed. "It seems to be so, my dear." My breath caught in my throat. I was with child? Part of my mind was buzzing, but the rest had sensed a 'but' lingering in her words. I attempted to tell my mind to be quiet and my body to relax as I levelled a surprisingly calm look at Wynne.  
"But?"  
"You're both Grey Wardens, Lily. We still don't know if you could be with child. It might be something completely different, and even if you were, there is no telling whether your child would survive very long with the taint that is in your blood. I'm sorry Lily. Please, do not get your hopes up." I could tell Wynne hated saying this to me, but I could also tell that she believed that it had to be said.  
"Is there any way to find out for sure?"  
Wynne nodded. "Come to me tonight, after dinner, and we will look you over. Don't tell Alistair until you've seen me; just keep it between us two. Yes?" I nodded, staring at the floor, but only part of me was truly listening to what she was saying to me.  
I might be pregnant. I might be carrying Alistair's child.  
"Lily?" I looked up quickly. Wynne was smiling a little, but it looked sad around the edges, worn and far too old. "See me tonight. And would you mind a little friendly advice?"  
"No. Not at all." I tried to smile, but my face felt too heavy.  
"Try to be nice."  
Being nice was harder than I had first thought, but that was merely because it seemed like it was everyone's mission to annoy me as much as possible. Through lunch, I had to fight not to throw my fork at Zevran who was making jokes on how I avoided sausage and linked it to problems with my sex life. The fact that Alistair was very quiet made it even worse. The boring droning on from landowners seemed more tedious than ever, and they all seemed to want to tell me how well the sodding turnips were doing this year. Like I cared. After one, maybe a little too forceful, rebuke, they all seemed to only give me facts, and requested more land almost as soon as they entered the room. Which I not so politely declined. It wasn't long before Alistair replaced me and I was allowed to leave.  
The whole day dragged. And my temper just rose and rose, and by the time Alistair and I were seated in the dining hall, eating dinner, we were barely talking and I couldn't meet his eye.  
"You're very quiet." I said after the constant chinking of cutlery had finally forced me to break the awkward silence.  
Alistair glanced at me. "You've been out of sorts today. I don't want to risk you attacking me too."  
"I haven't attacked-" I began heatedly, but I sighed and looked down at the beef, which also seemed to be shrinking away from me, on my plate. "I know. You're right. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be this way, I'm just a little… irritated."  
He smiled a little. "I can see that, love." He reached over and grasped my hand. "Maybe if you tell me what has been bothering you, I can help you overcome it?" I flipped my hand over and squeezed his fingers, before slipping it away and reaching for my fork again. I saw him clench his fist over the table once, tightly, before covering the motion with reaching for his knife again.  
I tried to ignore how much I was hurting him. "I'm seeing Wynne after dinner tonight. She may be able to help me." I didn't realise what my words would do to him, before he was on his feet, staring at me.  
"So you'd tell Wynne what's wrong with you, but you don't tell me?" I stared up at him aghast, injured by the hurt and anger in his eyes. "I'm supposed to be your husband, you can talk to me about anything. I would tell you everything. I do tell you everything. As far as I'm concerned, you are what my life has led to! Ignore the Blight, ignore the crown. You. You are the most important thing to me, and no matter what happens in my life, I want you to be there every step of the way. Why can't you let me in Reniselille?"  
I winced. He had never said my name like that before. "I'm still not sure what's going on Alistair."  
"Then tell me what you know. Maybe I can help."  
I shook my head. I couldn't let this fear affect him too.  
But. Said a little voice in my mind. It already has affected him…  
He sighed and pushed his chair back. "I'm not hungry anymore. Goodnight Reniselille." His voice had lost the anger, and all that was left was a pain so deep that I wanted to cry. I had done this to him. He was moving away, heading toward the door. I gripped the cutlery so hard my knuckles went white.  
"Alistair, I think I'm with child." I heard his footsteps and breathing stop at the same moment.  
We didn't say anything else for a long time, and I didn't dare move or speak, so I just stared at the food on my plate, ignoring the frantic pounding of my heart. I bit down on my lip hard. "Alistair, say something."  
"Why didn't you just tell me?" He finally said. He was speaking quietly, but the pain had increased – the opposite of what I had intended.  
"Wynne told me not to." It sounded pathetic, even to my own ears, and I felt the colour rise to my cheeks. It didn't mean anything that she had told me not to tell Alistair, because he was my husband, my soulmate. And by keeping this from him, I had injured him far more than anyone had ever done. I wore guilt like a shroud, and it weighed a tonne.  
"I'm your husband." He needlessly reminded me, and I winced again, hanging my head. If the situation hadn't been so dire, I would've been relieved that my circlet had not fallen off. I heard him sigh and then approach me again. This time he gently pressed his lips to my hair, his hand on my back. "I still love you Lily." He whispered. "But I don't think I've ever been this hurt by you." And then he was gone, striding quickly from the room as I sat, numbly, in my seat.  
I didn't move until my food had gone stone cold.  
Wynne smiled at me and touched my face. "Oh dearest Lily. I think you're in shock." I just stared at her, not comprehending what she was telling me. Not even remembering what I was doing here, or even where 'here' was.  
"Run that past me one more time." I managed after a moment, finally waking from my doze.  
"You're pregnant – and if I'm not mistaken, the babe is quite healthy. Surprisingly, it seems that the Darkspawn taint within you has had no negative affects on your pregnancy thus far. And if it hasn't done so already, there is no reason to suggest that any problems will manifest as time goes on." Wynne seemed pleased, even satisfied.  
We were standing in Wynne's study. Or rather, she was standing and I was half-collapsing into a nearby chair. She had cast a strange sort of spell, to, for lack of a better word, see into me, to check if I really was with child. I didn't remember the walk to her study, just the numb feeling in the pit of my stomach that had only receded a few scant seconds ago. I remembered the pain in Alistair's voice, and I threatened to go under again, but Wynne's words jerked me back again. You're pregnant. My hand flittered to my abdomen, where it rested for a moment, my eyes wide in what only could be described as wonder.  
Beneath the inner turmoil, the lingering fear of Maleficar and the guilt of hurting Alistair – I don't think I could ever say that anything had affected me quite so deeply. More than becoming a Grey Warden, more than falling in love with Alistair and even more than marrying him – because those things never came as a surprise to me. I knew that I would become a Grey Warden as soon as I saw Duncan in my home so long ago. I knew I would fall for Alistair the moment I set my eyes on him, and decided then and there that I would do anything within my power to marry him. But this child, the child that everyone said I could not have… had altered me in a very real sense; the realisation that I was about to become a mother in less than a year's time had shifted my priorities suddenly, so suddenly, I had no other choice than to be swept up by it.  
Wynne gathered me in her arms and squeezed me fondly. "Go to Alistair. Tell him the good news. And I will see you in the morning." She drew back and smiled at me, a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. And I finally began to relax. If Wynne said it was okay, then it was okay. My baby was okay. I smiled in return, but my face still felt a little stiff.  
"Don't tell Leliana." I warned, only half joking.  
Wynne's smile did not fade. "Oh no, I'll leave that to you. Don't leave her out of the loop too long dear, you may upset her."  
And we definitely wouldn't want another person being alienated by my secrecy. I didn't say it. I felt like it. But I didn't. Instead, I smiled half-heartedly at her, and bade her goodnight, before leaving. I did not hurry to mine and Alistair's chambers like I'd used to do, instead, I dawdled, the fingers of my right hand brushing against the wall as I walked the route I had known for two months now, and would probably always know by heart. Despite my dawdling, I reached the royal bedchambers faster than I had thought, and I hovered outside it for a moment, dreading the upcoming fight.  
With a sigh, I threw caution into the winds and opened the door.  
And had the wind knocked out of me almost before my eyes had adjusted to the room.  
"I'm so sorry Lily." Alistair was weeping, holding me in his shaking arms as he sobbed, his voice rougher than usual and his tears already soaking into my dress. Great. Damp shoulders. Then I realised what he had said.  
"You're sorry?" I demanded. He nodded against me and drew away, gripping my shoulders tightly.  
"I know why you didn't tell me about the possibility of you… carrying our child. And I was stupid to assume that you would come directly to me. What if you weren't and had gotten my hopes up? To find out that you weren't and our ability to have children was still in question… it would kill me." He sighed, and looked at me, his bloodshot eyes apologetic. "Although I wish you had dawdled a little more. This can't be a good look."  
"You have nothing to be sorry for my Alistair." I truly smiled at him, for the first time in what felt like weeks. "I should have told you, and I would've done so if I were surer. Like now. Alistair, I'm carrying our child."  
"Don't try to take the blame, I've spent the last hour wallowing in my guilt so don't – What?" His eyes were wide, hopeful – reminding me of a child. Which was strange.  
I smiled wider and slipped into his arms again, pressing my cheek against his warm familiar chest. Home. I was finally home. I had felt like I was adrift somewhere far from anything I found familiar, but now, I was back. He was frozen for a second, and then wrapped his arms around me, holding me against him tenderly.  
"Love you." He murmured. "There can be no happier man than me right now. That much I can promise."  
I let out a huge sigh; releasing all the stress I'd kept inside for the last month or two. I wasn't sure how long I'd been an emotional hurricane only that I had a lot to be sorry for. And a lot to be thankful for.  
"I'm glad you didn't say 'person', because I would've had something to say about that. You don't want to argue with your pregnant wife. Trust me."  
"I liked that. Say it again."  
I looked up at him, puzzled, but I did has he asked. "I'm glad you didn't–"  
He laughed. "No not that bit." And he smiled, and I knew exactly what he meant.  
"The fact that I'm your pregnant wife?"  
His smile grew. "Exactly."


	5. Names and Other Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young woman remembers that she is going to die...

And that was when the killings started.  
At first, we only received a few sketchy reports from Zevran, and even then it was in the form of hasty mutterings as he concentrated on the growing rumours of maleficar in Denerim, only glossing over the details of further crime in the city. To be honest, the capital was still adjusting to new rule, so some hidden rebellion against the bastard son, Alistair, was not anything to be surprised at – especially when this power-struggle was just about as consequential as a petty robbery in the murder capital of the region. It was viewed as an annoyance more than any danger.  
But the random deaths in the city did not stop. And Zevran became worried.  
“The bodies are turning up in places even I wouldn't think to leave them!” Zevran was muttering, playing with a plate of eggs and bacon he had been given. He looked annoyed. “On top of houses, in flower beds, half-flung out of windows... They are acting as if even if they are caught, it won't matter. I do not like this... brazen behaviour, your Majesties.”  
I nibbled delicately on a hash brown, which had been smothered in beans that were heated in a light tomato sauce – my pregnancy screwing with my tastebuds again - my eyes not leaving Zevran's face. I was in much better spirits now I knew that my sickness wasn't borne of my fear of Maleficar. For some reason that thought made me feel rather stupid. “Are there no clues? Have the city guard found anything?”  
“Not a hair out of place, Lily.” Zevran sighed as he looked at the collection of food in the middle of the table. He opened the lid of a nearby dish, then lowered it again in disappointment. “No sausages again today?” He looked like he was going to laugh. I scowled and looked over at Alistair, hoping he'd set Zevran straight for once, but Alistair was smiling slightly to himself, obviously remembering why sausages were no longer part of our morning menu.  
“Back to the murders though...” I murmured, disliking the direction our conversation had taken. “Do you have any idea what killed them?”  
Zevran scowled down to his food with such intensity I found myself believing that his bacon would leap off his plate and start trying to strangle him. But he just sighed and speared the bacon with his fork. “It looks very much like magic...” He muttered, lifting the bacon and staring at it closely. He nibbled on it, then nodded in approval. “This is very good. I would like some to take home.”  
“Magic?” My voice was steady, but that was it. I was staring wide-eyed at Zevran. I then shot a look back at Alistair. “Could it be...?”  
“Zev... could you be thinking a little too outside the box on this one, old friend?”  
The elven assassin looked up at us in confusion for a second. Then I literally saw the light dawn in his eyes. His mouth dropped open and his fork clattered on the plate, bacon forgotten as he stared at us in something approaching abject disbelieving shock.  
“I...” He swore in a language I did not understand, then leapt from his seat and raced for the door, yanking it open. I could no longer hear his hurried footsteps long before the door closed.  
Instantly, Alistair's hand was on mine and I flipped it and squeezed his fingers tightly. No panic. It's okay. Just because there are a band of mages killing people in our city doesn't mean they were maleficar, they could just be very evil apostates... ones that could kill a man without a single mark... ones that could not be found. My hand flitted to my abdomen as it did recently when I found my thoughts drifting to less happy things, as it comforted me almost as much as feeling myself locked in Alistair's arms.  
The king stood then, slowly, gently lifted my arm and I rose, turning to face him. “I won't let them near you.” He said fiercely. He pulled me forward into his arms and kissed the side of my head. I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder as he began to stroke my back. “And neither will anyone else in this place. We're completely safe. You, me and the baby.”  
I smiled. “It's going to take a long time to get used to hearing that.” I whispered against him.  
“I agree. Fortunately, we have nothing but time.” Then I felt him stop. Stop breathing. Stop stroking my back. Stop thinking completely.  
I stepped back in alarm, but the look on his face told me he had just remembered something he rather wished he hadn't. “Alistair?” I touched his cheek and he blinked and looked down on me, but the expression on his face scared me. It was as if he was seeing me after a decade of separation.  
“Lily.” Was all he said, and I felt his heart in his voice and then I knew. I knew exactly what he was thinking. With all that had happened... Ending the Blight, Alistair being crowned, the wedding and now finding out I was pregnant... this detail had been swept from my mind and remembering it now once I had everything I had ever wanted right in front of me, was much like having it all taken away. Or having it on lease. It wasn't ever mine.  
You've got thirty years to live. Give or take.  
I didn't want it to be true. I had accepted it then, stupidly I guess, but now? While I was staring at Alistair and knowing our child was growing within me, I found myself shaking my head, thinking over and over again that this wasn't fair and I had a life to lead now. All I wanted was to grow old with Alistair, watch my children have their children, maybe get a lady friend for Tynian and die warm in my bed after a full life. I didn't want to die when I'd only just started living. It was unfair.  
And when the time did come... would I be able to march to Orzammar and the deep roads and fight until I die? Leave my children behind and know I'll never see them again? Would I tell them where I was going or would I lie? A quick kiss on the cheek and a quiet 'we'll see you when the fair is over'? Leave them wondering if we were alive or dead the rest of their lives? Would I? Could I?  
Alistair was there then, taking my face in his hands and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I realised then that I had been crying. “Don't think about it.”  
“How can I not?” I demanded suddenly. “It's inescapable! Inevitable! We are going to die. This little fact has always been here, lurking behind each thought like a bad joke, just to jump out at the worst possible moment. We are going to die Alistair. We are going to die.”  
He nodded. “I know.” He told me. I noticed how hopeless my voice sounded next to his, when this should be the happiest time of my life. “I know we are Lily... but everyone dies. All we have to think is that it's not now. We have an opportunity here. Sure we could sit around and let the soul-crushing dread consume us, or, and I think this is the better option... we could get on with our lives. We have a life... Lily, we have created it.” His hand reached out and touched my abdomen.  
I quickly covered my hand with his or, as my hand was tiny compared to his, tried to. “I know but...”  
“Let me put it this way... if the Blight hadn't happened, if the archdemon had decided 'ah I'll wait a couple of centuries, they'll never see it coming,' then we would never have met. We wouldn't be married and you wouldn't be carrying a child... and even if you were it wouldn't be mine, it would belong to some spotty son of an Arl and you would spend the rest of your days knitting socks... And can I remind you how much I hate that image? Stupid nameless son of an Arl... But if someone told me that I had a choice... So that the Blight never happened so I could have a long and uneventful life but be without you, or to keep things as they were, death sentence included... I would not change a thing. Forgetting how selfish that is and forgetting how many people died during the Blight – yes I am a bad man – I think that's probably the brightest side we're going to find.”  
He was right. Sure I hated the fact that the one time Alistair chose to be right was the one where I would most like to wallow in my grief, but it didn't change the fact that yes, he had a point. Morrigan would have died of a heart attack were she here.  
I would not waste my life moping. I was going to live and love as much as I could in the next thirty years. I'll show this taint who was really boss of my body.  
He saw me relax slightly and nodded in satisfaction. “Now lets eat a bit more. You're eating for two now remember?”  
“Oh don't. I'm going to get fat.”  
He laughed and the atmosphere lightened again, despite how strained I knew it really was. “Grotesquely fat, yet somehow, still stunning.”  
“That's a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one.”  
And so things went on. I was still terrified about dying but the combination of my pregnancy and the audiences with Zevran kept me occupied enough so I was able to put it to the back of my mind. I couldn't forget it like I had before, but it was better than worrying about it day and night.   
Eventually, things started moving forward once more and the busier my life became, the more time went by without me noticing, which made me equal parts excited and absolutely terrified, the more Alistair became obsessed with making my pregnancy known. He had wanted to announce it to the people of Denerim almost as soon as he had found out, but Wynne had stopped him, telling him that while the baby was in no immediate danger, there hadn't been anything like this before that she had heard of. Until we knew that the child was safe, it should be kept quiet.  
Alistair was grumbling about this one night, almost two months after we had discovered the baby existed and Wynne still advised against announcing anything to the people. We lay in our chambers and he was softly stroking my abdomen with the back of his hand, head cushioned upon my chest as I lay and basked in the feeling of togetherness. Me, Alistair and our child.  
“I don't see what the problem is.” He was saying, his breath tickling my skin in a way that made me forget what I was thinking. “The people of Denerim would be pleased there is an heir on the way. The fact that we're both Grey Wardens must have triggered some sort of worry within the people. No one's heard of Grey Wardens having children before...”  
“Yes,” I agreed. “But most people do not know the particulars of being a Grey Warden. For all they know, we are just born special... rather than drinking the blood... ugh... that is not a happy thought...”  
Alistair laughed, sending goosebumps along my skin. “Darkspawn blood off the menu too? Damn, I was really looking forward to drinking some at breakfast tomorrow.”  
I laughed and batted the back of his head with my hand, to which he looked up at me with the face of a puppy that had just been kicked. Again I laughed and lay back down, closing my eyes. We slipped back into that comfortable silence for a time, listening to the night-time sounds of the city below.  
“What would we name it? I mean... him or her?” He murmured so softly, I had struggled to hear him.  
I smiled. “I was thinking... for a girl... about naming her for my mother...” I said softly. He pulled his head from my body and turned so he was lying atop me, but his chest was against my abdomen, hands over my stomach... as innocent as anything could be. But his proximity still sent my heart aflutter. “I'd like to call her Eleanor.”  
Alistair's smile was like the sun rising and it caught my breath. Suddenly my mouth went dry, even as he smiled down at my abdomen, pressed his lips against my skin and murmured, “Eleanor,” under his breath.  
I swallowed, hard. “and... and for a boy...” He looked up at me, his hazel eyes already full of love and warmth. “I want...” I took a deep breath. “I think...”  
Alistair smiled again and lifted up, rolling and climbing over me so he could pull me against his warm side, cradling my head in his arm while resting his cheek upon my hair. “For a boy? My love?” His nearness gave me strength.  
“Duncan.”  
He froze, much like I expected him to, but when I looked up into his face, he was staring down at me in complete shock and adoration. “I didn't... I didn't know you wanted to...”  
I smiled and kissed him softly, running my hand along his jawline to meet the back of his neck, where I twined my fingers into his hair. He probably needed a haircut, but I preferred him to look shaggy. It somehow made him look sexier, even with that stubborn quiff of his.  
I felt his breathing stop before he gently placed his left hand on my waist, stroking gently upwards with his fingertips until his hand was flat on my back between my shoulder-blades, drawing me in, closer to the broad planes of his scarred but somehow still smooth chest as my mouth opened under his and our kiss deepened. His right arm encircled me quickly and easily around my waist before he lifted me slightly and pressed me against the bed properly once again. But this time, the way his body was pressed against mine was anything but innocent, for I could already feel his cock stiffening against me, I could feel the way his hot breath heated my skin to the point I could not bear it and the way his body trembled at how much he wanted me...  
His lips were crushing against mine, our tongues dancing and gently massaging each other as his hands explored my body. He must have known it by heart by now, the feel of my nipple beneath his palm, how my back arches when he kisses my throat and how I always get so lost in every kiss, bite and taste of every inch of my skin. He knew everything. Everything I desired. Automatically I parted my legs, allowing him to lay between them but as the tip of his cock pressed against my entrance, he drew away a little, a mischievous grin on his face, which grew at my impatient moan. Instead, his hand journeyed from where it lay upon my breast, his fingertips tracing every smooth curve of my body infuriatingly slowly before it passed my navel, reaching toward my core.  
Alistair always had the skill to make me forget my thoughts with a single touch, but as his middle finger gently began to massage me in sweet gentle circles I forgot who I was completely. There was only his surprisingly expert touch adding fuel to the fire that was spreading throughout my body. I shivered. I gasped without knowing. I lifted upwards and caught his mouth in a kiss, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth and biting it, making him draw in a hiss-like breath and he increased his pressure, no longer gentle but rough with need. The need I felt in kind and the need that echoed in every moan that escaped my lips. I felt it building. It was getting stronger and I needed come undone. It was getting almost unbearable. I needed it.  
And then the fire consumed me.  
My whole body trembled with it to the point where I had to bite my lip to keep myself from screaming. “No... none of that,” Alistair lifted a finger and gently parted my lips, in time for me to release a moan that sounded unbearably loud, but Alistair obviously did not care, as he dropped his head and covered my neck and throat with vicious kisses, dragging his teeth over my skin. My body was still flooded with feeling, the constant flow of pleasure arching my back and pressing my body hard against his and as I relaxed, still breathless, I found I couldn't take it any more. I seized his head between my hands and pulled him up to face me. He looked down on me with his eyes dark with heat.  
“If you don't screw me right now, I think I might actually go insane.” I hissed. A second later, his lips were on mine, tongue parting my lips before I could even suck in a surprised breath and he thrust forward, his cock pressing immediately on my entrance and I let out a gasp as he thrust again, this time his length slipping inside me, my walls contracting around him perfectly as I lifted my legs to circle him.  
His groan of pleasure was almost enough to make me moan in reply for the knowledge that he loved my body and the way it made him feel as much as I did his was so very beyond perfect. But then he drew back, thrust in deeply again, and that was the end of my coherent thought process. My hips were already rocking in perfect time with his and my hands, my arms, clung to him like a life-raft, like an anchor, so I when I came undone, I would not fly apart from him. His lips were pressed against my neck, and the deep blasts of his breathing sent goosebumps along my skin, despite the rising heat between us. My skin glistened with sweat, his body was hot under my palms and all I could do was call out his name while the pleasure threatened to take me under again.   
We fit together perfectly in every way that mattered and each time my body buckled and I was taken over by the fire inside of me, I found myself struggling for breath until Alistair claimed my lips with his own and began the cycle again. He would groan in my ear, whisper my name and his rhythm would change; faster, desperate, fuelled by need and the pleasure that was obviously pushing him closer to climax. “L-Lily.” He gasped, clinging onto me tighter.  
I cried out in reply before he groaned in my ear, bucking hard into me, causing me to gasp and bury my head in his shoulder as he reached his climax and spilled his seed into me.  
We lay there for a time, feeling our heartbeats return to normal until he slowly pulled away and gathered me into his familiar and strong arms. “I love you,” He whispered, breathlessly.  
“And I, you,” I murmured in reply.  
We lapsed into the sleepy relaxing silence where my body tried to relax but more feeling like a burnt out candle-wick instead. After a while Alistair drew in a quick breath as if he were going to say something but let it go in a huff instead, covering the movement with pressing a gentle kiss to my head.  
I lifted up, to which my body complained. “What's the matter?”  
He just smiled and tried to push me back down to the bed but I fought him off and lifted up so I was straddling his legs. His lips lifted in a crooked smirk.  
“Tell me,” I urged.  
He hesitated but when I pushed his shoulder lightly, he rolled his eyes and then looked down at the twisted coverlet. “Do you find it weird? I mean... having sex while you're... already carrying a child?”  
I almost laughed. “Of course not.” I told him with a soft smile on my face. “I mean, as long as you don't poke the baby...”  
He chucked a little sheepishly and touched my abdomen again. “Eleanor... Duncan.” He seemed immensely satisfied. Now I knew what I wanted, I allowed him to take me in his arms and pull me back down to lie beside him. He was quiet for a long time, absently stroking me.  
“Admiring your handiwork?” I asked as I nuzzled closer to him.  
“There's not a lot to see at the moment. But once you start getting bigger... you're going to have a harder time fighting me off.” Alistair clung tighter to me and I could tell that his heart felt just as full of mine.  
“Well done.”  
“What for?"  
“For not saying fatter.”  
Alistair laughed. “Stop being self-conscious. You're beautiful. And you always will be.”


	6. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a man does what is necessary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alistairs POV

I spent the morning watching her sleep, or at least as much time of it as I could spare. I had had her face committed to memory from the first moment I met her, but those few hours in the morning never seemed enough any more. I remembered how she looked that day at Ostagar... She was such a beautiful thing but with sadness etched in every expression she pulled. She would smile at me, but her eyes would betray her heartbreak. She would look at the darkspawn in horror, but her eyes would betray the fact that in her world, she had seen worse. I wanted to help, which was odd, because I never managed to help anybody before. I was always bumbling Alistair, the idiot. Tact guy. But somehow, inexplicably... I healed her and, over time, she began to smile at me with a warmth that made my heart stop. That beautiful smile caused me to fall completely in love with her, and it was something I did not know existed. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and the most precious thing to me. And I wanted to be more for her, and because of that, I was.  
I was bloody king for a start!  
I turned onto my side to face her. Yes, I had memorised her face, but the one thing I could not get my head around was the slight bump that was protruding from between her hips. That little thing that was going to be my child. My son or daughter. My heart constricted when I thought the word “daughter”. Was that strange? Shouldn't every man dream of having a son? An heir?  
The idea of a little replica of Lily running around the halls just made my heart want to burst. She'd probably be a terror. And I'd hide at court while Lily is having her hair pulled by a two-year old brat. Yes I'm a bad man.  
There was a quiet knock on the door and I almost swore. I carefully clambered out of bed, as to not to wake my sleeping wife, and threw on something resembling clothes. I would be told by Wynne to change anyway but I wasn't going to answer the door naked. I was king... but that would be hilarious right?  
I was surprised to see a messenger standing awkwardly outside my chambers instead of the usual … person? I expected I should know their jobs and names by now, but they just didn't stick. Maybe because they all look the same. I suddenly decided this little fellow was called Pedro. I needed to start somewhere.  
“Your majesty.” The messenger, Pedro, bowed deeply and I felt myself get annoyed. Why do people bow? A sign of respect right? Look me in the eye! That's a better sign of sodding respect.  
“Good morning,” I said. Was it morning? Or had I slept through … whatshisface's knock?  
Pedro bowed again. “Good morning sire. I apologise for waking you so early.” His voice was rather nasal but I tried to ignore it and listened to what he was actually saying instead. “Your... friend, Zevran, requires your presence. He said it's important.” I did not miss his distaste when he spoke of Zevran which almost made me grin. Maybe Zev had tried hitting on Pedro?  
“That's fine, I'll go wake Reniselille and we will be with him anon.” I went to close the door but Pedro let out a yelp that sounded very much like 'wait!'. So I stopped.  
“Zevran said it would be best to leave the Princess Consort out of this. He said it's best to spare her undue stress in her... present state?”  
“Observant son of a-” I stopped myself before I let on anything to increase Pedro's suspicion any more. Despite how much I wanted to tell the world about Lily's pregnancy, I knew Wynne was only looking out for us, so quiet it would stay. “Reniselille has not been feeling well, and stress would only aggravate her condition. She's fine. She just needs rest.”  
Pedro nodded, but I could tell he was not convinced.  
“Not like it's any of your business.” I added. He paled and murmured something about leading Zevran to the throne room before literally fleeing down the corridor. I wasn't a man to flaunt power but Maker that was satisfying.  
I retreated back into mine and Lily's chambers before crawling on the bed to where she still slept. “Lily,” I whispered, shaking her shoulder a little. She opened her blue-green eyes sleepily and I had to fight not to get lost in their brightness once again. “Lily, I'm going to go down to the throne room. Zevran wants to talk palace defence again.”  
I watched her wrinkle her nose at the thought and turn her head into the pillow. I laughed. “Okay, you stay here and sleep. I'll send some breakfast up for you in a little bit.”  
“Mrrmf.” Translation: Okay or fine.  
“I love you.”  
“Wumphoo'oo.” Translation: I love you too. I hoped.  
Zevran was not as friendly. No 'I love you's or even a 'Good morning'. He just glared at me as I ambled to my throne and threw myself into it, chinking in the armour that Wynne had demanded me into as soon as I properly exited my chambers. I had told her it was only Zevran but she wouldn't hear any of it. Nope. Armour. Now. No ifs. No buts. No maybes. She was worse than the Grand Cleric sometimes.  
“Took your time.” Zevran did not look happy. In fact, he looked rather like he had just been dragged through Denerim by his ankles. He looked... bad. His hair was unkempt, which I had never seen before, he was missing two of his ebony-handled throwing knives and there was a wide, gaping hole in this leather armour. Not only that but his face was filthy and, underneath the muck, a little pale.  
“What happened to you?”  
His face turned despairing. “I had hoped to avoid this part of the meeting.” He told me.  
I shook my head. “No chance.”  
He sighed. “I accidentally broke the neck of my current landlord. We had a slight spat about the fact that I have not been paying the agreed rent... or rather not paying anything at all. I knocked him down the stairs, accidentally of course, and he did not get up again. Unfortunately this man was a large player in the criminal side of Denerim, which is quite impressive, let me tell you, and when I was seen leaving the building with a few of his more valuable possessions, his lackeys decided to come after me.”  
“You led them here?!”  
Zevran gave me a disgusted look and I calmed immediately. No. Zevran would not be that stupid.  
“They lost my trail about ten minutes after I escaped from their dungeon. They have no concept of jail guards. It was actually depressing. Maybe I should dispose of their leader? I haven't run an underground city of crime in a long while...”  
I frowned. “Zevran.” I warned. “You seem to have forgotten that I am the King.”  
“Oh-ho-no I haven't. You don't wear that crown because of fashion, that much is obvious.” He didn't seem to get the point.  
I sighed. “Okay Zev. What is this about?” I leaned back in my throne and motioned to one of the servants. Let's call this one Gertrude just for fun. She approached me and curtsied. Maker's Breath. “Could you send some breakfast up to the Princess Consort in about an hour please? No sausages.” She gave me a nod of her head and disappeared into one of the side corridors.  
“I found the Maleficar.”  
I froze. So that's why Zevran insisted on having this meeting without Lily. He noticed her fear of Maleficar and her pregnancy without any hints from anyone else... He really was being observant.  
“Where are they?” I demanded. Even if I had to get my sword from the armoury, I would see to it that they would never come near Lily or my child. They would stay safe.  
“They keep moving, Alistair. That's why it has taken me so long to find them. They never stay in the same place for more than a day, and sometimes, when someone like me seems to be closing in on them, barely even that. But, I overheard them talking before they realised I had gotten past their defences. We need to get Lily somewhere safe. Out of Denerim. As soon as possible.”  
I blinked, then I was on my feet before I had even caught up with where my brain was at. “They're coming for Lily?!”  
Zevran scratched his head. “It is more of a precaution. I heard them mention the Princess-consort many times, and not in a tone that suggested they were worried about her health... They know of her pregnancy.”  
“How?!”  
“I don't know. But the time for being careful is over. Make it common knowledge and the security around her will increase – make a show about visiting someplace... Highever maybe, and let people see her and how happy you are with each other. Make people accept her. All you have been doing is hiding her away in the palace and the people need to see her.” A change had come over Zevran and I knew I was right in keeping him close. He cared about us, or Lily at least and that was something we both desperately needed. I also knew, in that moment, that I must not tell Lily any of this. I would not cause her undue stress if it damaged our baby.  
“I'll need to talk to Wynne. She has been very protective over Lily and has warned us not to prematurely announce that Lily is with child.” I frowned. “She needs to hear of this...”  
“I could talk to her. I always loved talking to Wynne. She has a wonderful bosom.” And he was back. I felt myself smirk but then it faded once I remembered the nature of our conversation.  
A public visit to Highever. I could take this time to erect a memorial in Duncan's name, and Lily could visit her old home... or what was left of it, and there would be very little time to do so once Lily gives birth to Eleanor... or Duncan. It was the perfect excuse... and with the rumours of maleficar in Denerim, Lily would take any chance to get away for any amount of time.  
“What will you be doing in our absence?” I asked Zevran.  
“I will be, with your leave, reorganising your defences in the palace and in the city. Once I pay off a few thieves and whores, there would be no place in Denerim these naughty mages could stay without my knowledge and then we would close in on them, and either drive them from Ferelden or destroy them.” I could tell he had thought this out but...  
“For this to work, I would have to make you commander of the guard.”  
Zevran looked up at me, wide-eyed and innocent. “Is that so?”  
“I already have a commander of the guard.”  
“How interesting...”  
There was a sudden almighty crash from the south-end of the hall and I was, having just settled back down again, once again on my feet, my eyes wide as none other than my commander of the guard was dragged into the hall between two of his men. I could tell by the smell that the commander was very, very drunk and by the look of him had been sitting with his head in a bucket of water for the last five minutes. I looked over at Zevran who seemed suddenly very interested in a tapestry, rather than the man who was now being dragged toward me.  
Both guards dropped the commander unceremoniously onto the floor and bowed, chinking in their amour. I was going to have to have a word with some people. “Your majesty.” they said in unison.  
“What is the meaning of this?” I had always wanted to say that ever since I was crowned. Seemed like a very kingly thing to say.  
“We found him in the courtyard, your majesty.” The guard on the right said as he nudged the commander with his foot. Oh I knew this one! He was called Alex! I knew because he was staring at Lily's backside for what seemed like an hour when she was in the gardens and I asked the now drunk fellow on the floor who I needed to execute. “He was singing 'ten thousand tankards'...”  
“Niiine fousand nine 'undrid and eigh'y shix tan'urds of geeeer!” Wailed the commander.  
“He'd gotten through fourteen verses by the time we found him...” They looked at each other and sighed. Now that I was paying attention, they looked very similar... Maybe they were brothers?  
“Fourteen what?”  
“Verses, your majesty. It's an old drinking song. After you finish a verse, you have to drink a beer and so on... though normally it's only ten tankards... whoever started this fellow off had a warped sense of humour.” The second guard muttered, though I could tell he found the situation very amusing.  
I shot a glare at Zevran who was now studying a portrait of some ancient king of old or whatever. The little weasel.  
However, no matter how underhanded Zevran was being about it, I could see the point he was trying to make. I couldn't trust someone who would willingly succumb to alcohol whilst on duty and the poor man singing “nine thousand, nine hundred and eighty... eighty... where's my drink?” on the floor was obviously not someone I could trust with Lily's life. I sighed. “Can someone escort him home? I'll have a formal meeting with him when he sobers up... and when he stops singing. Though someone had best explain to his wife.”  
Alex nodded. “I'll do it your majesty.” He ducked down and picked up the babbling man. “Come on Walter. Let's get you home.”  
“Whur's Pwincess-con-stort Reneeseh-lillay?” The commander babbled as both guards began to half carry, half drag him to the door.  
“It's six in the morning sir, she's probably still in bed.” Alex told him in a placating manner.  
The commander snorted. “I'd bed her.” Alex and his supposed brother chose that moment to start getting really serious about taking the besotted commander out of earshot. Maybe I should have executed him?  
I sighed. “Okay Zev, I get your point.”  
“Your Majesty?”  
“You didn't have to go that far though. He could have... been sick, started crying... stabbed someone. That would not have been a good beginning to the day.”  
“Are you suggesting that I did that to that man?”  
The look I gave him then spoke volumes in a way that words never could and Zevran's face split into a huge grin in reply.  
“So do I get the job?”  
There was no one else. Zevran knew more about Denerim than even I did, and give it a few weeks he would probably completely revamp my guard. Giving him direct control of our defence was probably a prudent move... but he was an assassin, and that probably meant we had to pay him.  
“Fine. I'll give you one of the guest rooms so you can stay in the palace but that doesn't mean you own anything in this palace. No running off with shiny things. Got it?”  
“Of course. We will talk about my wages another time.”  
This was going to get expensive.  
Lily woke up an hour or so later, and after throwing up and then eating the breakfast Gertrude had sent up for her, she drifted downstairs and settled down sleepily in her own throne, or throne I secretly had made as it was padded as to ease the stress on her back, unlike the original. I was sure she knew as she had been very... appreciative the night after I had them switched.  
Despite now much I loved her being close to me, I was always nervous when Lily first walks into the throne room, just in case someone spotted her growing bump, but Wynne had set aside some maternity dresses that were so loose it was impossible to tell. Today she wore a loose-fitting blue-green summer gown of some light and airy material and her white hair had been braided smoothly and swung somewhere halfway down her back as her circlet glittered in the candlelight. It was always impossible to miss her entrance.  
At the time I was listening to one of the courtiers drone on about the region's financial status. We were doing well... despite the recent blight. That was all I had pulled from what he was telling me.  
“Good morning,” I whispered on as Lucifer droned on. Yes, I'd named that one too. She smiled at me and reached for my hand. “How did you sleep?”  
“With my eyes closed,” She whispered back and I snorted, making Lucifer stumble to a stop. I grinned at him until he rolled up the parchment he was reading from and smiled good naturedly.  
“I will come back later your majesty.” And he bowed and left the room. Bloody bowing... but at least he saw how distracted I was. I turned in my throne – not an easy thing to do – and took Lily's hands.  
“I've been thinking–”  
“Wow, are you feeling okay?”  
“Oh shush, lady, or I'll bend you over my knee.”  
The sound Lily made then was very much like a purr, and it made me shiver in a very, very good way. “That sounds like fun,” She whispered.  
“Keep behaving like that and you'll see how fun it is,” I moved toward her a little more, reaching out a hand to cup her face.  
There was an exasperated sigh. “Oh please, children... you're in the throne room.” We both looked up to see Wynne standing nearby with her hands on her hips, her face torn between amused and despairing. Then she burst out laughing and rustled forwards to kiss us both on the head. “You are both dears, but I would rather you not make eyes like that in the throne room. People will see.”  
Lily laughed, but her hand was still locked in mine and I smiled down at it, thinking that I was so grateful for her ignorance. The Maleficar knew of her pregnancy... such knowledge would scare her beyond anything else.  
“Alistair. I think the time has come.” My head jerked up as Wynne spoke, my thoughts scattering like papers on a desk after a freak gust of wind.  
“It's time? Time? Time for what?” I sounded like I'd just woken up.  
“Time for people to know about Lily's pregnancy.” She gave me a look then. A look that told me Zevran had already gone to see her and she had agreed that Lily should never know, and that the world should know that a royal child was on the way.  
“Really?” Lily squealed, not bothering to hide the excitement in her voice. I tried to smile then but it didn't feel right. It felt wrong to lie to her like this...  
No. We weren't lying. We were protecting her.  
“I'm glad.” I managed after a moment of silence. “I've wanted to tell people since I knew. So lets shout it from the rooftops okay? Lily is having my child. At least I think it's mine.” I sent a look of shock at Lily, who then laughed and batted me with the back of her hand. Obviously she did not think much about how much it would hurt her hand when hitting steel, so Wynne laughed as she swore and hit me with her left hand around the head instead.  
We were protecting her.  
“I was thinking...” I began again and Lily smiled at me, a look full of trust and love that my confidence wavered. Could I lie to her? To keep her safe? Yes. “I was thinking that we should visit Highever.”  
The look that took over her face then was equal parts sadness and joy and it made my heart constrict. “Highever?”  
I smiled. “I have yet to put up a memorial in Duncan's name... and I thought you might be able to visit your brother... get out of the palace for few weeks? Get out of Denerim? Put a stop to these worries about maleficar for a while?”  
“What a lovely idea.” Wynne agreed enthusiastically. “I could handle your court affairs while you're away and Zevran is more than capable to knock your guard into shape.”  
Lily looked between us, confused. “...Walter is Commander of the guard though. He's hardly going to let Zevran stick his nose into things...”  
I grimaced. “Zevran disposed of Walter.”  
“You mean he–?!”  
“No! No... he got him drunk.”  
“Oh.”  
“So I gave him a job.”  
“Oh... well that makes sense.” Lily's voice was oozing sarcasm.  
“It could be a lot worse. Imagine Oghren with that kind of power?” Wynne interjected.  
Lily winced. “Okay. I admit, it could be worse.” Then she looked to me. “But do you really mean it? Should we go to Highever? Announce that I'm with child?”  
“It makes sense. We won't have much chance after our baby is born.”  
She thought for a moment but when she looked back at me, I knew she had fallen for it. I was protecting her. I was taking her away from danger. I was protecting her.  
So why did I feel like the worst husband in the world?


	7. To Highever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a woman remembers how things used to be...

I loved walking for hours on end. They wouldn't let me do that.  
I loved running around the palace chasing Tynian. They wouldn't let me do that.  
I loved spending my afternoons secretly sparring with Alistair. He wouldn't let me do that.  
I loved curling up on one of the low couches in the library with a book. Now this they let me do, but the problem was that it was pretty much the only thing they would let me do now that everyone knew I was carrying the first royal child.  
Alistair had announced it the very morning Wynne had allowed him to do so, and the news had spread through Denerim like wildfire. By the next day the guards were bringing bouquets of wilting wildflowers, stuffed toys and baby clothes in faded colours ranging from pink to once-white-but-now-looked-rather-grey in from the city. As I stared with rapt attention at the servants who were picking through the assorted items in the courtyard, Alistair came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder.  
“Well. They seem happy.” He commented. “I never understood why the people would celebrate the prospect of a Crown Prince. Even when they don't bloody know for sure. It's none of their business really, is it?”  
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please Alistair, you're the King... you're everybody's business.”  
“I'd rather not be.” He hitched his voice up a couple of octaves. “oh, your majesty, you're my hero. Oh majesty, let me lick your shoes. Oh majesty there's a wet spot! Allow me to remove it from your holy path! How about sod off you brown-nosing cretins?”  
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.  
I must admit though, he was right. Within two weeks of my pregnancy being announced, it was hard to find a single moment to be by myself anywhere in the palace. Servants would fall over themselves trying to cater to my needs, and everyone seemed to think that because I was pregnant I was turning to a person who would eat anything shoved in their face. I was not amused. I tried to laugh it off and just kindly remind people that I was only eating for two and not the whole city of Denerim but they wouldn't hear any of it.  
It was a relief when the night before we were due to travel to Highever arrived. I had sent a letter to my brother, telling him the news of our impending visit and he wrote back within a week, which was astonishing for him, letting me know that I was always welcome back home.  
“Will you stop watching me with such rapt attention? It's very off putting, you know.” I lowered the apple from my mouth and glowered impressively at my husband. He grinned and lifted up on his elbow to see me better. We were sitting in bed, and he had been reading.  
“That's the seventeenth apple you have had today.” He told me.  
Colour rose to my cheeks. “You're exaggerating.”  
“I wish I were. In the throne room all I could hear over Lucifer's mumbling -  
“His name is Ryson.”  
“I don't care. All I could hear was you munching away happily, and then, when you'd finished, there'd be a moment of quiet and then you'd start munching again! Where have you been getting them?” Alistair was still grinning.  
“The servants have taken to carrying around a basket for me. They put it near wherever I happen to be sitting.” I pointed to my bedside table, and sure enough, there sat a wicker basket full of bright green apples. “I didn't even ask.”  
He laughed and drew me close to kiss my forehead. “It's cute.”  
“Cute?”  
“Cute.” He nodded definitely. “Fruit is apparently good for you, and so, it will be good for the baby... it needs all the help it can get.”  
“More depression?”  
“Just... worrying is all. Wynne said all is fine, and I believe her. I just can't believe we'd be lucky enough to have a perfectly normal child. The fact that you're pregnant at all is mind-blowing Lily, I'm just waiting for something to go wrong.” His face took on the now-familiar scowl. He was always worrying about me, or the baby. It would change from the fact he was worried my body wouldn't be able to take the strain of carrying a child as well as the taint and it would expire, to that the baby would be hurt by my blood. I understood where he was coming from, but his worry did not help set my mind at rest.  
I touched his face. “Nothing is going to go wrong. We are going to Highever, we are going to see my brother and erect a memorial for Duncan. Then we are going to come home, I'll get fat, I'll pop and we'll have a child to look after. We are going to be parents Alistair, think about that. Don't dwell on the negative.”  
He grimaced. “Please don't say you'll pop. I've got some rather distressing images running through my head now.” But as we curled up to finally sleep as the night drew on, I felt the first twinges of panic. My child would never be normal. Would it?  
The next morning we awoke before the sun had even bothered to begin to rise and felt our way, sleepily, across the room to our prospective closets. We had given strict instructions that all servants keep away and we should be allowed to choose our own attire for this journey, as neither of us would be very comfortable sitting in a carriage for hours in our finery. When some of my handmaidens looked ready to disagree, I used my new talent: The pregnant woman's glare. They wilted like desert flowers under my frosty gaze and shuffled off to annoy somebody else. Probably to complain to Wynne about my behaviour actually. Damn snitches.  
We ate a hurried breakfast in the dining hall; it had felt so normal to do so before I fell pregnant, but now I usually ate my breakfast in our room in case I didn't make the journey downstairs without being sick. It was safer, and probably kinder to the servants. Less vomit to clean up. Zevran was at the table with us, quickly devouring a huge breakfast he had piled onto his plate. For such a little fellow, he sure knew how to put it away.  
I must admit, I was paying very little attention to the conversation which was bouncing between my husband and the little assassin, and pretending I was listening would just hurt their feelings, so I stared at my plate and tried not to fall asleep into it as the sun rose and sent glistening rays of golden light into the dining hall through the windows. For one moment, I recalled the sight of burning houses and smoking streets, the smell of corpses, burnt hair and the echoing sound of terror-filled screams. I felt lost in my own memories, unsure which way to turn as my friends looked around the broken shell of Denerim in dismay until I regained my senses and remembered that the blight was over. It was over and I was safe. I then promptly threw up on my plate.  
The carriage ride to Highever was supposed to take several hours , much to my disdain, and so the servants had packed us a small lunch to eat on the way (apples included). Though I had to confiscate it and hide it under my seat ten minutes into the journey as Alistair kept stealing bits.  
I dozed. Alistair stole my apple basket. The carriage trundled through Ferelden. It was a perfect morning, the sun was shining brightly down on the carriage and the birds twittering their morning songs atop the trees we passed, the sun leaving dappled silhouettes as the leaves drifted lazily down in the breeze. I listened with my eyes closed as the carriage rocked, my hand, which was clasped in Alistair's, was also half-circled around my abdomen, cradling the child that lay within. My stomach coiled in excitement as the perfection of the moment hit me. I was on my way to Highever to see my brother, with my husband, while I was with child. My heart was full.  
Fergus had not been keeping his ear to the ground. I had not informed him of my pregnancy in the letter for two reasons, one, I sort of supposed he would warn me away from making such a long journey and two, half of me suspected the news from Denerim would have reached him. Apparently not. As soon as I stepped from the carriage, my brother raced from the courtyard, down the rough road and yanked me into his arms, fully lifting me off the ground and crushing me against him. I heard Alistair give a yelp of alarm and he fought his way out of the carriage, typically falling on his face as he did so.  
“Fergus... you're… crushing me.” I gasped, a little bit of a laugh in my voice. He chortled and set me down, allowing me to breathe and I placed my hand on my chest. “You haven't changed a bit. You need to stop throwing me around like a ragdoll, you know. Delicate condition.”  
His eyes widened and he looked between me and Alistair, who was now brushing himself off and approaching us with a half-amused expression on his face.  
“You... you're...” Fergus looked up at Alistair, who was only about an inch taller than him. “Did you get my baby sister pregnant?!” He demanded.  
Alistair's eyes widened and he looked to the side toward me, obviously panicking. Suddenly, Fergus burst out into laughter, taking one huge step forward to embrace his brother in law, before turning to me and hugging me tightly, but being a little more careful than before.  
He was much how I remembered him. Dark hair swept by the northern wind while dark and typically untidy stubble shadowed his jaw, giving him the roguish appearance that the girls used to go insane over. His wife was no exception. Maker rest her.  
I dimly wondered if there had been anyone else since.  
He quickly led us into the building, and I felt my heart constrict painfully as I remembered the last time I had actually seen it.

_“I...” I panted, doubling over as Duncan stumbled to a halt. I grasped my side, a stitch painfully shooting up it as I struggled to breathe, even without the air being thick with ash and the smell of smoke, death and sweat as it was.  
“Come on, Reniselille,” The Grey Warden told me seriously, reaching out and placing a paw-like hand on my shoulder, almost making my knees buckle. “It's a long way to Ostagar.”  
I clenched my eyes shut tight, no longer able to cope with their stinging. I wasn't too sure whether it was smoke or my tears, I was no longer sure about anything. Other than the fact that I just could not run anymore. I didn't want to. I'd just lost everything in a matter of moments. What was the point? “I can't.” I gasped.  
Duncan frowned a little but the way he crouched by me and increased his grip on my shoulder was comforting. “I know it's hard, Reniselille, but you have to keep running. The darkspawn horde is marching through the wilds, and if we don't offer as much help as possible...” He gently lifted me to my feet and turned me to face the way we had come. “...what you see now, will be the fate of all of Ferelden.”  
I couldn't help but stare. My home, my world, was in flames, flickering with dishonest beauty and sending plumes of thick cloying smoke to the sky, silver with the ash that issued upwards in shimmering clouds as the roof began to collapse. I shook my head and balled both fists into my eyes, as my throat and lungs threatened to release the screams I had been fighting against for what felt like eternity, but in reality must have been little more than two hours. He released my shoulder and began to walk away, leaving me facing my burning home. I took a deep breath, letting the air soothe my scorching lungs, before turning my back on the scene that had burned itself into my memories._

“...You sure?”  
“Yep. That's her far-away face. She's been doing it since she was about two according to our father.”  
“I always thought she was just ignoring me.”  
“Well it could be that too.”  
I blinked and looked, sheepishly, up at the two most important men in my life, both with identical looks of amusement on their faces. “Welcome back, Lils.” Fergus said, his grin widening. “What were you thinking about?”  
Our eyes met for a moment. I'm not quite sure what it is my brother saw there, but his face fell and he put his hand, softly, on my shoulder, a move so like Duncan that it brought the smell of smoke and death back to the forefront of my mind. He smiled wanly, before leading myself and my husband into the looming keep of Highever, my old home.  
It had changed a lot since we had left; some of the walls had been knocked through to create larger rooms and corridors, new furniture and braziers, but then it didn't really have much of a choice, seeing as most of it was destroyed in Arl Howe's attack. But it still, oddly, held the essence of home. Despite where my life had taken me, even into the palace of Denerim itself, Highever was always, always going to be my home... and I was glad Alistair was here to see it, to know where I was born.  
Fergus led my husband through the halls and I trailed behind, peering at every fixture and putting it against what remained of my memories. The more time I spent standing in this strange warped version of my home, the more I felt the new merge with the old, as in what was now made what was then less real and more of an imagining, less important. I shook my head against that thought as Fergus led us to, what I hoped I remembered, as one of the more comfortable lounging rooms, trying my hardest to summon up memories of my mother and father in their own surroundings, their home – not this. Fergus had made this keep his own and despite my initial struggle, I was glad he had. Better than have their ghosts haunting these halls.  
We ate in the large dining hall together, and it was obvious that my older brother had pulled out all the stops to ensure that the royal couple had an equally royal feast, but there were specific elements of it that were just so Fergus that I found it hard to stop laughing, especially when staring at the table centrepiece which consisted of a large war axe with ivy wrapped around the blade and finally decorated with a light dusting of wildflowers. Oriana, maker rest her, had a hard time of curbing Fergus' war-themed obsessions but now that she was gone, he didn't really have anything holding him back any more. I could see it in the décor around the keep itself.  
The absence of our parents was more than apparent. And it stung.  
For the moment, my brother and my husband were deep in conversation about where to erect Duncan's memorial.  
Fergus speared a slice of meat with his fork and popped it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and motioning toward my husband with his fork. “I remember Duncan arriving here, he seemed like a good man.”  
“He was a good man – the best kind of man,” Alistair nodded. “I wanted people to remember who he was, where he was from and the good he did for Ferelden itself. He was born in Highever... it seemed fitting...” He looked over to me and I nodded slowly. “Somewhere near the sea... he kept making jokes about having the look of a salty sea-dog. He'd slip into pirate lingo when he got drunk.” Alistair smiled and I took his hand, my other arm cradling my growing bump.  
Fergus nodded thoughtfully. “I know just the site. But for now, we'll eat, be merry and sleep. We can wait until tomorrow to begin the work. Besides, I would prefer to talk more with my sister – I haven't seen her since... since your wedding actually, and even then she looked less focused than that bloody dog of hers!”  
Of course. I wanted to get my husband to bed. I glanced at Alistair and found him grinning at me.  
Soon after we had eaten our fill, we all retired into what had always been one of Fergus' favourite lounges. He brought Alistair a brandy and after looking at me with consternation for a moment, settled for bringing me some grape juice. I thanked him and set it aside, vaguely wondering what had happened to my basket of apples.  
We sat around a crackling fire for what felt like hours, talking about the prospective changes in each of our lives, mine and Alistair's mostly while Fergus gently announced that he would be looking, once again to marry.  
“I miss having a woman about the house.” He said sadly, looking around the room. “And they want an heir to take over the teyrnir when I'm gone. It's all about carrying on the line isn't it?” He looked over at Alistair as if for confirmation. I scowled.  
“What are you trying to say Fergus?” I demanded.  
“Nothing.”  
“Fergus. I know when you're lying.” I was quick to anger at that point – tired and hot and uncomfortable... and not forgetting the raging hormones. “Spit. It. Out.”  
“A few of the nobles have been talking – not me, you know me, sister – that Alistair did not make the wisest choice when agreeing to marry you.” I could tell he did not really want to tell me.  
“WHAT?!” It had not been only me that had shouted. Alistair was on his feet.  
My brother sighed and scratched his beard. “Grey Wardens are not known for having children...” was all he said. We pieced it together on our own from then on. They wanted an heir, there was no guarantee that I could give the king that heir. I was the wrong choice.  
“So–” I began but surprisingly, Alistair, his voice low with uncharacteristic fury, beat me to it.  
“I married your sister, Fergus, because I am in love with her. When she told me she was willing to rule by my side, my first thought was not whether or not she could give Ferelden an heir! My first thought was wondering if I could actually make her happy and be king at the same time – I would not be able to give her the attention or love that she deserves, because she would be sharing me with countless other people. My first thought was about her. Not the country, not its people. Her. Lily. I don't care what other people are saying. They could talk until their faces fall off. I am married to Reniselille Cousland and she is pregnant with our first child, the heir to the throne of Ferelden. Now if you don't mind, I am going to bed.”  
And with that, my husband rose from his chair and marched out of the room, leaving Fergus and myself in a stunned silence.  
I waited.  
After about three seconds, Alistair sheepishly returned. “Um, may I be shown to my room please?”


	8. Duncan, Bryce and Eleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young woman mourns and celebrates...

_Wynne,  
Thank you for your letter, it is the first time I have been in Highever since it fell and the days aren't really falling where they're supposed to, what with working on Duncan's memorial and my sickness that hasn't really abated yet, but your letter has helped bring some normality.  
I am glad that Zevran hasn't gone completely mad with power following our absence from Denerim and has at least had the foresight to ask our permission to let certain members of the guard go but some part of me does fear that he has already done so with just the guise of asking us with a ready made excuse for our return. Perhaps he will forget how to read?  
Duncan's memorial is going well – the statue is in its later stages of completion – and we have chosen the site. It is just a stone's throw away from the ocean, easily to spot from any high point in Highever, which is where Alistair has taken to lurk, watching them build the foundations. I don't think he likes it in Highever. He seems to have so much on his mind, so despite me being so happy to back with my brother, I can't wait to come home and get my Alistair back._

I lowered my quill slowly and looked down at the parchment, chewing my lip in thought.

_As for my health, I feel fine. As I mentioned before, my sickness hasn't changed but that also means it hasn't gotten worse. I'm fine. So kindly stop your worrying.  
All my love.   
Lily.  
P.s. Tell Zevran Alistair says, and I quote “leave them alone you sticky fingered bastard.” He said he'd know what that meant. Did you hide the crown jewels safely enough?_

I left the glittering ink to dry and withdrew from my desk, wandering over to where Alistair stood at our balcony staring at the foundations of Duncan's memorial. He had said almost nothing during my letter home, which was meant to be a joint effort, only reawakening from his thoughts long enough to throw in the thinly veiled threat aimed at Zevran.  
“Is it nice where you are?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my cheek against his back.  
“Yes, dear.” He said, not tearing his eyes from the distance. He didn't even blink.  
“I think you're thinking too much again.”  
“Yes, dear.” I frowned a little. I did not appreciate being Yes Deared.  
“Thinking doesn't suit you at all.”  
“Yes, dear.”  
“I'm leaving you and running away with the blind beggar outside.”  
“Yes dea- wait, what?” He blinked owlishly at me, a sight so endearing I forgot my annoyance.  
I smiled sadly. “I'm still here, you know?” He nodded and smiled apologetically, drawing me against him and holding me tightly.  
“I've just got a lot to think about. All I can think about is Duncan and you and home and the baby. So much is going on in my head and... that's never happened before. It's normally this big gaping void of idiocy.” He grinned.  
I put my hand against his face and his grin changed into a tender smile. “You're a blockhead, you know that right?” I told him.  
“Noted.”  
Alistair and my brother had buried the hatchet pretty soon after their argument – in fact they both acted like what happened the night of our arrival hadn't actually happened at all and returned to being a pair of big boys with one another. I even caught them both sparring in the courtyard one afternoon after I had fallen asleep in the lounge, reading a book. I was glad they were getting along but, as time went on and Duncan's memorial began to near completion, Alistair almost totally stopped engaging in any human interaction, hardly slept and only played with any food he had on his plate, leaving his former new best friend reeling, confused and questioning his little sister.  
I was sitting, once again, in the lounge, eating an apple and reading a book when I heard a gentle knock at the door, and I turned, seeing my brother stepping cautiously into a room that belonged to him anyway. I had snapped once or twice at Fergus over our stay in Highever and apparently I had become quite formidable since falling pregnant. I smiled at him and he relaxed.  
“Good afternoon, Lils.” He said to me softly.  
I stretched and set aside my book as he entered the room properly and perched on a seat near me. I was lounging on one of the low sofas, not unlike those that had been bought into the palace in Denerim when my pregnancy became common knowledge, in the small spot of sunshine I had managed to find.  
“Hello Fergus. I assume you're bothering me for a reason?” He smirked. He had responsibilities as the Teyrn of Highever so it was strange that he would take the time for an idle chat, especially during daylight hours. We had taken to talking more at dinner and before we all retired for the night.  
He grimaced. “Pregnancy does not agree with you Lily. You're mean.”  
“I meant it with all the love and compassion in the world.” I smiled, wrapped my arms around my growing bump and rested my head back, at ease and comfortable in the warmth. “What's the problem big brother? You have your worry face on.”  
“Your husband... Is he okay?”  
I sighed. “He's mourning. He didn't really have much time to take stock just after Duncan's death and erecting a memorial in his name has brought it all rushing back.” I looked at Fergus and his familiar scowl. “We have all lost so much but... in a way we have come to terms with our demons – I killed Howe myself, you have had the teyrnir to cultivate, the house to run... Alistair has had nothing to make peace with Duncan, up until now. He's making his peace... I doubt he'll be back to normal until we're back home.”  
“The statue is nearly complete isn't it?”  
I nodded. “Alistair is overseeing it as we speak. The foundations are done and I think it's just the final touches and putting it in place. We'll leave once it's erected.”  
We were silent for a long while, both straying in our respective thoughts about those we have loved and lost.  
Finally, after what seemed like an age, Fergus frowned a little and looked down at his clasped hands. “You know, after I rebuilt this place, I felt like I was somehow betraying mother and father, especially since not really anything remained of the original building, so... I... put something up... to honour them. My own little memorial, if you will.”  
I sat up suddenly. “Why didn't you tell me?”  
“I didn't want to make you sad.” Fergus shrugged. “You have so much to think about now.”  
My face turned sad. “But I still want to see it. It doesn't matter if I am the Princess-consort, they are still my parents.” Fergus stood up and offered me his hand, his face sombre.  
“Come with me then. I will show you.”  
When I was younger, I loved the gardens that surrounded our home; but that was because the building itself and the courtyard it surrounded were so grey, bleak and cold, even in the summer. I would run through the long grass, just before it would be cut, chasing my mabari puppy, Tynian, who bounded in and out of bushes and shrubberies with his tongue lolling out in an expression of pure doggy joy. I would sit under the trees and braid daisy-chains into the servant girls' hair. I loved the gardens.  
I was gratified to see that they had hardly changed. Fergus led me down the old worn path, the same path on which I had fallen and grazed my knee when I was younger, and down to where the duck pond used to be, the same pond in which I had fallen in and Fergus rescued me when I was six. The pond was still there but it seemed smaller compared to the vast glittering, sparkling mirror I remembered from my youth and now sported a pristine white bridge which we crossed to approach a small clearing amongst low rosebushes. My brother gently held my hand as we crossed the bridge and led me to the clearing, his grip sure and calm, the exact opposite to what I felt – alarmed by the nostalgia of being in my favourite place when I was so young – especially as I was now married and expecting my first child. It was difficult and I was definitely not prepared for what I was about to see.  
An old Cousland shield, my father's if I was not mistaken, had been placed lovingly upon a plinth with a small wooden plaque with the names Bryce and Eleanor Cousland carved on in simple but beautiful script. It was not over the top and it was not gaudy, but it was exactly as my mother and father would have wanted it. If they wanted something to be leftover from their lives it would be this. This beautiful memory, quiet and unassuming in the gardens their whole family adored.  
I walked forwards slowly and placed a hand upon the wood. “Hello mother, hello father.” I smiled. “I suppose it's been a long time.” I sighed. I never really got to say a proper goodbye to my parents and I would never get a chance to say another thing to them and have them hear it but if they could hear me and if they were anywhere, it would be here. In this place. Now.  
“I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'm alive and well and happy.” I smiled. “Mother, you don't have to worry anymore. I'm married to a wonderful man, the king if you really want to know, but I met him as a Grey Warden, at Ostagar and yes, father, that does mean he can protect me. And he has. There was this one time when this Darkspawn Hurlock came running at me and–”  
I couldn't say how long I talked for, with Fergus standing patiently behind me as I yammered on and on about everything that had happened since they died. I told them about my wedding, about killing the Archdemon myself, about the Deep Roads and about my baby. I promised I would take care of my brother as much as I was able and I told them that I loved them and missed them so much it hurt. I cried so much my head hurt and I laughed so much I could hardly breathe, imagining their shocked faces and their tear-filled and proud faces at all I had accomplished.  
I was brought from my own world by a presence beside me that I had not felt when I begun talking to my dead parents.  
I looked up into the face of my husband, tired and drawn but looking down on me with a kind, understanding smile. I did not quite realise that I had fallen to my knees but he pulled me up slowly and gently before taking a step toward the plinth and bowing, once.  
“My Lord and Lady.” He said softly in his normally teasing voice, only this time he was more serious than I had ever seen him. Even at court he had a humorous edge to his voice, teasing and always half-sarcastic. “My name is Alistair. I am a Grey Warden of Ferelden and I have come to your home from the capital with the express intent of asking for your daughter's hand in marriage.” He smiled back at me. “I have known Lily for a while and it did not take me long to discover that she is a kind, courageous and beautiful woman and I would be a fool if I let her slip away from me. I know it may seem untoward, especially as I have never met you in person before but I humbly ask your permission to wed her. I promise I will keep her warm and safe, happy and content until I die...” He sighed. “This is what I would have said to you, had I chance to do so... But, however belated, I do offer these promises with as much weight and hope as I would have done if I were asking your permission to marry Lily. I will keep her warm, safe, happy and content until I die... there is nothing I would rather do in this life. I'm very sorry I should never have chance to meet you and regretful that you will never know your grandchild either. We should have loved being part of your loving house. Sleep well and Maker bless you.” He gave a final bow and turned back to me.  
I didn't have any words. Well, I had lots of words but none that could really justify how much the man standing before me truly meant to me. So I just smiled and he smiled in return and reached toward me to take my shaking hand, pulling me forward.  
We stood in silence for a long while, his arms warding off the winter chill while listening to the birds sing with the rustling of the trees overhead as an accompaniment to their harmonies before I looked up at him. He was studying the Cousland shield with a thoughtful frown on his face. “You gave me one like this,” he stated, after a while.  
I nodded, struck by the sudden memory, gratified that he remembered. “It was in the vault... we found it when... when...” I sighed. “It wasn't doing much good sitting in my pack, I thought you should have it. You got some use out of it. Protecting your soft head.” I said the latter with a small smile so he would know I was joking and he had the decency to offer a mock hurt expression at my half-hearted insult.  
“I didn't realise it was so precious to you.” He nodded. “Thank you.”  
I smiled and then struck by a sudden thought. “Is the statue finished?”  
He nodded slowly. “You should see it.” He told me. “It looks just like him... The foundations are done and all that is left to do now is just put it into place. It will be done tomorrow.”  
“Can I come see?”  
“When it's finished, definitely. Right now, I just want to do this, it's my own little proper goodbye to him.” He looked a trifle embarrassed but I understood. He left me to do my own mourning, so I should let him do the same, I would give him all the time he needed.  
I slept easily that night, for the first time in what seemed like years, warm in my bed curled in the arms of my husband and I awoke feeling refreshed and unfortunately alone.  
I hated it when he left me when I was sleeping.  
Still refreshed, but perhaps now slightly grumpy, I swung out of bed, donned one of my thicker maternity dresses, knowing I was about to step out into the chill that was Ferelden fast approaching wintertime for an extended amount of time. I knew Ferelden very well. In the summer... it was cold. In the wintertime... It was even colder. I shoved my feet into woollen slippers, threw on a large woollen cardigan I had the foresight to pack and went off in search of my husband, brother or failing them, breakfast.  
Fergus found me twenty minutes later in the dining hall with a bowl of porridge and he joined me, chatting about normal things until we finished and went about our day.  
It was late into the afternoon when Alistair made his reappearance. I was in my favourite haunt, in the library where I always ended up when I was lacking in both husband and brother departments. Normally, I would be accompanied by one or two of the female servants though on that day I was alone and leafing through a book I was sure I had read at some point in my adolescence. A soppy romance about an elf in the circle of the magi falling for a templar. Forbidden love almost used to make my heart flutter when I was younger.  
As he opened the door and entered, I threw down my book and, as fast as I was able in my circumstances, crossed the room to him.  
His cheeks were pink and his nose was cold when I kissed him in greeting, cupping his face in my hands.  
He gasped appreciatively when I touched him. “Oh! Your hands are warm!” He pressed my hands closer to his cheeks. “Warm haaaands. Warm Lilyyyyy. Waaarrm is gooooood.”  
I smiled. He was starting to sound like himself again.  
“Is it finished?” I asked him. I slipped my hands out from under his, only to place them back on top of them in a lame attempt to warm him up further. My hands were so much smaller than his. “You are like ice.”  
He nodded, a twinkle in his eye. “Do you want to see?”  
“Are you sure you want to go back out there? You feel so cold.”  
“Well it is cold out there.” He grinned and looked down at me. “Wrap up warm and come with me. I want you to see this.”  
It was cold on the hilltop. We stood together, huddled against the wind while both looking up at the statue that had painstakingly made and placed upon the foundations. The team that had actually created the statue were there also – older men and women, those who actually remembered Duncan from the time he actually lived in Highever, a time that was apparently short-lived. We did not know how he lived when he and his family lived in Orlais but we wanted to honour the beginning of his life, and mourn it ending.  
It was remarkable at how close the craftsmen had managed to create the Grey Warden's likeness. His stance and maybe his muscles were a little off but his face – his face was so … so Duncan that it stopped my breath – almost entirely.  
I remembered him. I didn't know him quite as well as Alistair but on our journey from Highever to Ostagar, Duncan was pretty much all I had. He kept me sane after the destruction of my family. My home. Duncan was my friend. And I missed him.  
 _Flutter_.  
I froze.  
Oh. Oh. _Oh Maker._  
I suddenly reached out to Alistair and it was to his credit that he directed an alarmed look at me almost instantly.  
“Lily, what is it?” He asked me urgently.  
I knew words wouldn't be enough so I just took his hand and placed it flat on my bump, my eyes not leaving his face. One second. Two. Three. His eyes widened, amazed, and he turned to face me properly, his other hand coming up on the opposite side as if he could cradle our child while it was still within me. Slowly, Alistair sank to his knees as I felt the tiny thump again and pressed his lips to the fabric of my gown. He then looked up at me, adoration in his eyes. “The baby...”  
“It's moving.” I finished, my voice thick with emotion.  
When we had left Denerim, Wynne had checked me over and had told me I was nearing the time we would start feeling movement but I didn't really think it would be like this, at this time. But part of me was still worrying about the taint in my blood and that my child was not as healthy as it would be if Alistair and I hadn't been Grey Wardens. With the first kick that part of me had finally been silenced and I knew it was the same for Alistair.  
Our baby was fine and currently kicking the hell out of its father's hands.  
We stood like this for a long moment, up until a polite clearing of the throat alerted us to Fergus' arrival. Without hesitation, Alistair stood up, grasped Fergus' hand and placed it on the spot where the baby had been kicking. “Feel.” He instructed. He then stepped back, grinning like an idiot.  
My brother's reaction was as could be expected – overwhelmed and yet oddly sad, remembering Oriana pregnant with Oren... so long ago.  
Me, my husband and my brother stood in the shadow of Duncan, the Grey Warden, marvelling over new life while mourning the still painful loss of our previous mentor.


End file.
